Half of Heart
by Seraphim Earl
Summary: The moment Thorin Oakenshield took on the mission of taking back Erebor with twelve other dwarves, another stepped up and took the mantle of protecting the people. It was Lirin Bladedancer, Wife and Queen to Thorin Oakenshield. Lady of Sieges. "Lie a promise then! Just for me!" (Mix of Book and Movie Verse) Thorin/OC
1. Prologue

Half of Heart

**Summary:**

The moment Thorin Oakenshield took on the mission of taking back Erebor with twelve other dwarves, another stepped up and took the mantle of protecting the people. It was Lirin Bladedancer, Wife and Queen to Thorin Oakenshield. Lady of Sieges. "Lie a promise then! Just for me!" (Mix of Book and Movie Verse) Thorin/OC

**Prologue:**

Hobbits, as much as they are peaceful folks, are inherit-ably curious. You cannot blame them of course. But Thorin Oakenshield found himself blaming our dear Master Bilbo Baggins at every turn. Not the first and surely not the last. More so than ever at this very moment. It wasn't for any mischief, no, dear Bilbo is not that kind of hobbit. He might be a child of Lady Belladonna Took but I assure you it wasn't mischief, nor delay (except for the initial one), or damage of any kind.

He blamed him for bringing up a Name. Yes, a name.

You will know who, how and why, I assure you. First, we need to retrace what happened a few hours before our Thorin was brooding to himself.

The Company was setting down for camp, a few days after leaving the Shire. Gloin and Oin had already started the fire and it was dancing beautifully, warming the travelers with fingers of colors. The supper was done and the company were scattered in their camp, talking and eating and telling stories. Fili and Kili hoarded our dear Master Baggins, the hobbit between them as they regale him with stories and their adventures so far before the Shire. Being the youngest in the group, they were the loudest in their laughter, sure of their safety and relief at finding their burglar. Bilbo on the other hand, just sat there listening and eating gladly. He was happy to have food to eat at last! For his stomach was rumbling protesting at the loss of the other three meals from his usual six. The others were fairly quieter in their chatter. Some were silent and lost in their thoughts. The comfort they experience was a boon in comparison to the days to come. They knew it so.

In this merry moment did Bilbo asked. "I know that Thorin has told me of Erebor, but, have you seen it?"

Without missing a beat, Fili and Kili answered together, "Definitely!"

Another beat and Fili added his merriment even greater. "Not personally, no."

It confused Bilbo so that his brows scrunched together and his mouth opened and closed, trying to find the right question or statement to say. The chatter died down and Bilbo's question was heard by all. "How?"

"Paintings." Kili said simply, food halfway to his mouth. "Very beautiful ones at that!"

And here we take a glimpse of Thorin, who was brooding alone and farthest from the fire. The moment the burglar spoke, he looked up and listened suspiciously. When his nephews answered, he wondered who to blame for the sudden stab of pain, his nephews or the hobbit? He wished he didn't listen and to his pride blamed the curiosity of Bilbo Baggins.

"Do you remember Fili?" Kili seemed to abandon his meal for a while, his hands doing gestures unconsciously. His awe and wonder were prominent in tone and action. "Aunt Lirin made such enchanting paintings! Her hands were like liquid gold!"

"L-Liquid Gold!?" Poor Bilbo almost choked on his food.

"Expression, Master Baggins." Fili shrugged, thumping the his back.

"Wait. W-what? W-who?" His gaze jumped between Kili and Fili, wanting to shake them hard to have an answer. The Took in him wanted to know more.

"Our Aunt Lirin!" Then they cleared their throats, as if announcing the winner of a great battle. "Or rather, Lirin Bladedancer: Artist and Scribe of Erebor. The Lady of Sieges."

A moment of awe passed on Bilbo's face, his jaw slackened and his eyes widened. Then, there was another question. "Aunt… Your mother of father's sis - ?"

"My wife." All eyes swung attention to Thorin Oakenshield, whose gaze was haunting black with licking fire. Bilbo was more than surprised at his growl, for it was a growl. He never expected one as determined and daresay, dark as him would have a wife. A wife who seemed not one out of duty even! Thorin however, already turned his head away and to the West. He looked there, past everything that blocked his view, to the Blue Mountains were their kin now stay. If he let himself, his memories, take over, he would feel her calloused yet gentle fingers through his hair. He would hear her chuckling softly by his ear. Maybe, he would even see her chocolate eyes always ablaze, yet with an eerie calm. He would hear her voice, her joy and also her anger.

But he wouldn't because it will lead to harsher and sadder circumstances.

So Lirin Bladedancer was the name which was brought up and resulted to our present event of Thorin blaming Bilbo as he sat in front of the now dying fire.

"Lie a promise then! For me!" He lost to Memory after all.

-TBC-

Author's Notes:

Song for this prologue would be: 'If you could Hie to Kolob - Instrumental'

And warning:

Lirin has an RP blog which is for personality research (Lirin's and Others) as well as an illustration site for this story. Fore URL (the one you put before tumblrcom) 'theladylirin' There would be a link for 'art' there but nothing's up yet.

This was only inside my head first, then an RP blog. I am still scared to write on this because there are so many better Thorin/OC stories.

One I advice would be Lady Firehammer. Go read it if you haven't.

Thank you to everyone who reads and I am open to your suggestions and criticisms, constructive as they are. Have fun and review!


	2. Chapter 1: Ancestry

Half of Heart

**Summary:**

The moment Thorin Oakenshield took on the mission of taking back Erebor with twelve other dwarves, another stepped up and took the mantle of protecting the people. It was Lirin Bladedancer, Wife and Queen to Thorin Oakenshield. Lady of Sieges. "Lie a promise then! Just for me!" (Mix of Book and Movie Verse) Thorin/OC

**Chapter 1: Ancestry**

Lirin's birth was a joy to her family. Why? Why would an eldest female child be a joy to a dwarf family? They needed heirs, and males are more than suitable for that! Males are revered as the next heads of families and as well as one to have privilege in political and even military sectors that women cannot. By way of life as well, since there are more males than females that such way of thinking and tradition was made. Males hold much power and privilege among the dwarves. That is a fact.

Then why celebrate?

For it was that however society influences, it will be ancestry that changes the one.

Daeren, son of Fruidn, father of Lirin, has a Woman as a mother. The blood of the race of Man runs through his veins. His esteemed mother taught him the value of family, ingrained it to his very being. It was a well-learned lesson to Daeren. It was much to the delight of his wife, Celen to be loved and have loved a dwarf like him. So Lirin, daughter of Daeren and Celen, was born into a happy home. Under the protection of the prosperous kingdom of Erebor and the great rule of King Thror, she lived comfortably.

Lirin grew, unconditionally loved by her parents. Even with the birth of her brother four years later and her sister two years after, they were loved equally. They were taught everything that their parents knew. Daeren was a blacksmith of the military and Celen was a royal seamstress. There were bad times of course, when her parents fight and she would be herding her teary-eyed siblings to her room. Afterwards she would be staring at the ceiling thanking Mahal for her family.

She was raised inside the confines of the dwarven court, knowing etiquette, traditions and the like. She never cared though. She just listened to her parents and not to what the world tried to tell her. She knew who she was and would want to be. She took into heart what her parents counseled them, 'You are you, not them.'

Daeren was her foundation and Celen, her guide. Her brother, Lor, was mischief and their little Lyra was her sunshine. Lirin, well Lirin was always the calm one. She was unpredictable, yet calm.

With these Lirin knew that she was lucky and she thanked the Valar and Eru for it. She prayed that her luck wouldn't run out.

**-TBC-**

**Author's note:**

Short. Yes. Sorry about that. Long chapters would be following this one. Yes, Lirin doesn't have any family problems except for the usual arguments. Although, Daeren and Celen are one with tempers and it was definitely passed on I assure you. I'll try to upload the next chapter ASAP. Thank you to those who reviewed, fav, followed and read this.

Song for this? Err… None really.

Have fun and review! You have my many thanks.


	3. Chapter 2: First Meeting

Half of Heart

**Summary:**

The moment Thorin Oakenshield took on the mission of taking back Erebor with twelve other dwarves, another stepped up and took the mantle of protecting the people. It was Lirin Bladedancer, Wife and Queen to Thorin Oakenshield. Lady of Sieges. "Lie a promise then! Just for me!" (Mix of Book and Movie Verse) Thorin/OC

**Chapter 2: First Meeting**

Year: TA 2762

Thorin: 16 years old

Lirin: 12 years old

Thorin, not yet Oakenshield, son of Thrain and Prince Under the Mountain, met Lirin in an ordinary day of Middle Earth. Being a Prince, may give Thorin privileges and advantages but it was never an easy life, especially when one was from great Erebor. Thrain and Thorin, being heirs to Durin's throne, were given branches of the kingdom to govern. Thrain was given the military and more. Thorin, in between his lessons and training, was given tasks that involve checking on the state of some of the branches of the kingdom that Thror has assigned to him. It wasn't much, as he was still young, just the auxiliary branches and the like. "Keeper of the People" as his father and grandfather fondly termed it. Thorin knew the purpose of such tasks and completed them the best he could. He studied well the dos and don'ts, asked advice to his tutors, superiors and family. He labored hard and learned he did.

Today in his schedule would be a meeting with the head scribe, his tutor Grivdn. He would ask news of the state of the records, the scriptorium and the needs and also problems that Grivdn's department encountered. Also he would like to hear suggestions for improvement.

So to the library it was.

Thorin entered the library announcing his presence with his heavy footsteps echoing inside the large room. He went straight to Grivdn's office. The door of his office was thick wood with engravings made by the finest artisans. It depicted of the making of the dwarves and the life of Durin the Deathless. Thorin examined the door, his mind telling the story of their great Father that he knew like the back of his hand. Then he knocked the door three times and waited. Then knocked again. And again. Receiving no answer, he stepped back from the door and turned to their massive library. He decided that he would ask one of the scribes for Grivdn's location. Then, depending on the results of such plan, he might wait for Grivdn or seek him out himself. He preferred the former, maybe with a good book to read as well.

So he looked, keen eyes and heavy footsteps, for a scribe (thinking that they should be the ones approaching) and a book to read. He went through the shelves, skimming the beautifully written spines for something to appeal his tastes. The shelves were carved from the very mountain itself, with embellishments and engravings just like those of Grivdn's door. Ones about legends, myths and history. He searched the stone tables and the lush couches and chairs for any occupants. He searched from the first to the last with thinning patience and burning temper. Was the library unattended at a time like this? It should be remedied immediately if that is so. It might be one of the places that are seldom visited by the people but still. Thorin forehead creased in confusion and irritation, grumbling low under his breath about his plans on what to do with such problem.

Imagine his annoyance when he found his first sign of the library's occupancy. You could? Good.

It was on the very last table, on the corner of two walls with wide windows. The table was small and was curiously made of wood. Its size was half the great stone ones and on the surface was an open book, which was literature as he deduced after reading a few lines. Also there were paintbrushes littered with pans of paint and containers of water. Pieces of parchments with sketches and scribbles also inhabit the table.

"Watercolor." He muttered softly as he dipped his finger to a container of clean water. On the edge of the table closest to the tucked chair was a painting left to dry. To this was Thorin's critical gaze gravitated. It was a painting of Erebor's Great Hall. It was there that the king received guests and threw balls and celebrations. In truth, Thorin celebrated his past sixteen birthdays there. In the painting though, it was deserted, with bluish tones mixed with greens. He was amazed by the impression it gave him, a sorrow and feeling of being alone. His hand took the edge of the parchment and lifted it carefully.

The paper rustled.

A thud then Thorin's heart stopped and his hand flattened on the painting. His eyes whirled to a paintbrush, a hairsbreadth from the painting. Its handle was embedded deep on the table. 'It might as well be a dagger.' He thought. He didn't even hear the footsteps, nor any sign of approach. No anything.

"Don't you dare Hudon! Don't you dare!" A heave of breath. "I will not have you ruin my work. Again!"

The brush was hypnotizing and it seemed like it was bleeding blood when in truth it was just colored plain red. Intrigued with the owner who had the audacity to throw him a bladed brush, he looked up with his brow raised and a devilish smirk on his lips. What he saw surprised him, for it was just a young dwarf lass. A little girl indeed!

She was panting loud for breath with her hand still hovering midair from her throw. Locks of her brown, almost black, hair tumbled in curls and waves over her face and up to her waist. The brush seemed to have held her hair in a bun and the rest was still held up by another brush. She was also gripping her skirt up to her knees and it showed him her bare feet! Greatly improper for a lady such as her, so Thorin made an effort to not look down past her knees. He was a prince and a gentledwarf. Her face was scrunched up in anger, her brows knitting together almost to a perfect V.

Lirin, on the other hand, was furious. She has reason to be, because most of her works in the past were destroyed by this Hudon's meddling hands. Also it wasn't the first brush that she threw. When no scared squeak or word came as reply to her act, she was surprised. Hudon would be saying his apologies by now. So Lirin felt the cloud of fury wash away, to be replaced by a calm wind. She straightened her stance, her hands fell to her side and her skirt swished down to her feet. The change was obvious, especially when one looks to her gaze. Chocolate eyes cleared and brightened, like a storm hadn't even happened within their depths a while past.

"You are not Hudon." She blinked owlishly. Her gaze meeting Thorin's

"I am not."

She looked at him with an analytical gaze, seeking discernment of the emotions that were allowed to roam in his blue eyes. She was measuring him up, in bolder terms. Lirin was naïve, and she didn't know that she was doing it so openly. It was always a habit though and it was almost second nature. Observe before anything else.

It took a few moments.

"Prince Thorin." Lirin swiped her locks away from her face and gave the prince a simple curtsy. Thorin was taken aback by the blankness in her tone. It wasn't even suppressed or hid for respect's sake. It was borderline apathy, the tone she used at him. He was so used to the reverence, false or not, that the people have for the royal family. She, she seemed to not care and she acted so openly to it. He took his time, his own face an expression of nonchalance. He tugged off the embedded brush, his aura nothing but critical and proud. "Your Majesty."

"My lady." He didn't even look at her when he replied. She shrugged off the hint of amusement and sarcasm in his tone. She took the other brush in her hair and approached her work table. Thorin continued, "What you did is dangerous, lassie."

She was silent when she stood beside him, eyes trained on her work. She checked diligently for any sign of mishap. You see, Thorin was coaxing Lirin to apologize. He was the Prince (and he is rather prideful) and it garnered respect. Little mishaps were given high degrees of apologies, unless, the suspect earned his respect which was definitely rarer. This girl did nothing in particular, just painted and threw him a paintbrush. Said paintbrush which he was inspecting and apparently has a bladed and very sharp tip. Deadly. "This is rather sharp for a paintbrush."

"I know my aim and my craft." She replied with the same nonchalance. She bent over the table, dipping her brush to the bluish green paint in her palette. Her hands moved with ease, as she dabbed the brush to the parchment. Her hair brushed his arm with every movement and he did nothing but observe. Her eyes were glazed and it was like she was transported into another place altogether. She did her dabbing continuously, shrouding the painting with a mist of sorrow and nothingness.

"You missed a few details." He pointed out, not wanting to be ignored. He was beside her and she acts like he's not even there. By the Valar, it was irritating him like no other. Certainly, she gasped and turned to him with wide eyes that said 'Oh! You're still here.' He felt his gaze harden in annoyance. "There should be a tapestry on the west side of the dais and also a door on this part."

Lirin paused in recognition of his words then took a spare parchment and wrote what he said, mumbling about tapestries and doors under her breath.

"Why do you not just paint it while in the Great Hall itself?" Thorin asked again, realizeing she was indeed painting from memory.

Lirin took on a contemplative pause, her eyes lazing once again as she searched for an answer. She regarded her painting as if it held her next words. The air around her churned like the sea and maybe even a flickering fire. Always moving and changing. She talked slowly, unsure if he would understand the idea she would explain. "There are certain moments which happen and barely happen again. I'd like to paint those moments. They leave impressions, emotions and thoughts to people who witness them. I'd like to put it on paper, the very least I could do to immortalize it, those feelings that made me stop and take it in. Remember."

She took a deep breath, feeling as if the explanation didn't suffice. "Art… Art to me is expression and I want to express what the Great Hall, or maybe what I felt at that moment."

Then she looked down again, flustered at the foolishness of her words. Who would agree that a hall would have feelings to express? Hurriedly, she continued. Back to reality, back from that unreachable place. "But of course, the details could come later. It is still a work in progress."

"You are a queer thing, lassie." Thorin murmured unsure of what to say.

"I am no older than you." Lirin huffed in reply, another change of mood.

"Definitely, yet younger all the same." Thorin bit back. Lirin shrugged visibly not taunted.

"Prince Thorin."

Thorin froze and Lirin jumped in surprise, squeaking. "Sir Grivdn!"

The prince met the head scribe's meticulous gaze, old eyes dancing between him and the lass. Thorin wondered if it was about how close he and the girl were standing. They stood elbow to elbow and he skimmed his memory if that wasn't allowed. He didn't felt like moving though, because he can feel her awkwardness and was turning it as fire to his amusement. Lirin immediately made herself busy. She didn't want to be involved and was wishing that they leave as soon as possible. Or at least for Thorin to step away. She could feel his change into a commanding presence and it sizzled, making her uneasy.

"I apologize for my tardiness, Your Highness." Grivdn gave a bow, bending by the waist. "I never expected my visit to my grandson would take so long."

"I understand. It is family after all." Thorin replied almost automatically. He put on a small smirk and continued, "I am intrigued rather,"

He could feel the lass tense like a bowstring.

"I am sure that I have announced my presence, yet it was a sound of rustling paper that caught attention." Lirin almost choked at the denial that tried to escape her lips. Red crept up slowly to her face. The prince was enjoying it and she was trying hard not to kick his sheen hard. "Why is that?"

Grivdn's sigh echoed in Lirin's ears. "I believe we have another dent on the table then. No alarm, 'tis the Lady Lirin's norm. I have yet to witness her miss."

"Lirin?" Thorin remembered that he had indeed forgotten asking the lass' name. He turned to her with a raised brow.

"Lirin, my liege, Daughter of Daeren." She gave another simple curtsy, still red in face. "An honor, my prince."

"A pleasure."

"Shall we, Lord Thorin?" Grivdn called the prince and led him to his office.

And so Lirin and Thorin met. It is rather a very simple meeting. Amusing and intriguing.

**-TBC-**

**Author's note:**

** Song: Say When by The Fray**

Yep. I don't know if it's cliché or not but it's how I imagined it to be.

Read and review.


	4. Chapter 3: Alliance

Half of Heart

**Summary:**

The moment Thorin Oakenshield took on the mission of taking back Erebor with twelve other dwarves, another stepped up and took the mantle of protecting the people. It was Lirin Bladedancer, Wife and Queen to Thorin Oakenshield. Lady of Sieges. "Lie a promise then! Just for me!" (Mix of Book and Movie Verse) Thorin/OC

**Chapter 3: Alliance**

"So you mean to say that she painted all those from memory?" Once again we are back with the company and again the query was from Bilbo Baggins. He was undeterred by Thorin's dark glares and the sudden silence that washed over the company. The rest of the company were scattered on different sides. Balin and Dwalin were silent, siding with Thorin and giving him support by lingering around his presence. Fili and Kili were more than glad to answer the hobbit's questions. The others were listeners, dropping their opinion every once in a while. Gandalf, well, Gandalf was the neutral party. He answered when asked, though his answers are of the general idea. He was as quiet as a mouse when no statements or questions were aimed at him.

"Many races are gifted with good, might I say, excellent memory." Was Gandalf's answer. It was a generalized idea, avoiding any specifics. The specific which was the Lady Lirin.

"I know Gandalf. It is absolutely amazing. I would like to meet her too!" Bilbo nodded, turning once again for another question. "What does she show you? The treasures? The kings? The first painting, what is it?"

"The first painting?" A look passed between Fili and Kili, as if asking if they should tell him. Fili answered, "It is rather a sad image. It is of Erebor's Great Hall, deserted and in muted hues."

"I remember that." Ori said his tone grave. "It was so sorrowful that I would ask the lady to let me see it again and again."

"It calls. The Great Hall." Bofur murmured, his lips in a frown.

"W-why? Shouldn't she show you the treasures, the great rooms and the glory?" Bilbo was affected by the sadness the dwarves exude and could feel that there was a great change to them that said painting gave.

"Because Master Baggins," Thorin's voice came rugged as he halted his pony. He turned, his eyes hardened gems and grey like storm clouds. His hands were white as he gripped the reins, Minty becoming restless and uneasy. "The glory of Erebor was of its people, not of structure or treasure."

He took a calming breath, his strong façade slowly breaking. "Now, Mr. Baggins, shall we halt speaking of the subject? I have explained to you everything you needed to know, have I not?"

"W-well y-yes! Certainly! Greatly so I must say." Bilbo's eyebrows were so high it might have combined with his hairline.

"Then no more questions."

So the topic of Lirin Bladedancer was closed and henceforth we seek the aid of Time and Memory in telling her tale.

-LINEBREAK-

**TA 2776**

** Thorin: 20 years old**

** Lirin: 16 years old**

A sudden hush swept over the Great Hall. It was a night of celebration and Lirin had her heart in her throat. An alliance between the elves of Greenwood and the dwarves of Erebor has been made after so long. It was an event worth celebrating and indeed the king announced it as such. Immediately, the place was in a flurry of excitement. Lirin wanted to cry 'Woe unto me!' as she stood behind the great doors. But alas, her mother pleaded to her that she do as requested and that it would be a great honor to them. She snorted. Honor. They were but children to be doing things such as this.

"Ready?" She asked, breathless in anticipation and a bundle of nerves. "Lor? Lyra?"

"I want to pee." Lor, her dearest brother, asked with a sheepish grin.

"You're too old for such excuse Lor." She growled through bared teeth.

"I'm not!" Lyra said as her eyes twinkled in mischief.

"Oh, shut it." She snapped at them. Thankfully, they did. "You know what to do?"

They nodded. Lirin was proud that they all grew so well. Anyone who looked at them couldn't deny that they inherited their father's blood the most. They were much lither than those of the other dwarves, compared to the bulk strength. They were also taller than most of their peers. These gave them advantages over a plenty of things.

"Shut out the world." Lyra started, pulling up her mask to cover her lower face.

"Have fun." Lor followed suit.

"And just don't care." Lirin said as she did the same. It was a blatant lie of course, because the balls of nerves they were feeling weren't easy to dispel.

She could hear the Master of Ceremonies now, and she chanted in her head that it was for a friend. Never turn away a friend. The dwarf was a dear friend of their family and being pressured of the truth that the dwarves never celebrated with another race as guests. He asked a favor to their mother and Celen barely refuses favors form friends and near family. The moment they arrived behind the double doors, he thanked them nonstop that Lirin needed to calm him down enough to say that it was not a problem. Still she fears failure. "Let us open the celebration with a performance from our very own."

The double doors opened and Lirin passed a squeeze to Lor's sweaty hand which he passed onto Lyra. It was time.

Silence. Then murmurs were immediately passed around the audience. She caught the word 'children' and tried not to spring back and to flee. She shut out the world and focused on nothing else but the music she heard inside her head. Then they stepped forward into the Hall were a thousand of eyes watched critically like hounds at their every movement. Another step they took and bells chimed to the air, disrupting the silence. The sources were the sister's anklets and bracelets. Bracelets forged specially by their father and dresses made by their loving mother. One thing echoed in their minds like a chant. 'We couldn't fail. We wouldn't allow it.'

One, two, three steps. Bells chiming like a spell. Then Lyra opened her mouth and sang.

_Twinkle, twinkle, little star_

_ Where do you lead this humble one?_

_ Over mountains and under seas_

_ Oh little star, where do you lead?_

They reached the center of the Hall and their eyes enveloped in a haze, gave their respect to their audience on the dais. There, their King watched with open interest. Beside him, to his right, was the Lord Thranduil. He looked at them with amusement and a tilted head, waiting. He was followed by the other elves who occupied the right side. To the left sat Thrain, his expression closed off and nothing but suspicion swelled within his eyes. Then his wife, on her lap was the Princess Dis who was eager and excited that she couldn't stay still. Then Thorin and Frerin, and what was that? Lirin felt her brow rise before she could stop it. A young elf, if you could call him young, sat between the princes. Who he might be, she could only wonder. The elf lad contained his excitement pretty well, but if the tapping of his fingers on the arm rest wasn't a sign, then she didn't know. She gave a mental brush to the matter; she barely cared for strangers anyway.

_Oh humble one I show to thee,_

_ Friendships through lifetimes and history_

_ The skies doth bow to them, they do!_

_ Victorious cries, All Hail the Kings!_

_ All Hail the Kings!_

_ All Hail the Kings!_

_ Still!_

Lirin moved her hands knowing that her sister did too. The silence could only lure attention for so long. Cling, cling, cling a cling, the bells went. Then the musicians now strung their tune to hear and the three danced. They danced not of court or of savages, but one of freedom. Like faeries, they twirled and turned, round and round. Freedom well met! Somersaults and cartwheels were made. Their skirts swirled like flowers and silken wings of a butterfly. They use Lor as leverage as well as boost up to the marvelous maneuvers that they did. With this combination they danced and flew, their feet barely on the floor.

"Now?" Lor asked quietly. Lirin was perched upside down on his shoulder, her hands keeping her upright. The skirt showed the leggings beneath keeping the modesty. Lyra was on the other shoulder, in a same position. Beneath her mask, Lirin grinned. The nervousness was gone and in its place was a great sense of excitement that made her shake to the very bone. "Now."

"Alright!" Lyra replied in the same exhilarated tone.

Lirin flipped herself and landed on the floor upright. With sure and daring steps, she approached the dais with and made a deep curtsy to the kings. The moment Thror gave a nod in return she went closer and turned to her right. She almost skipped and the grin didn't go away. She stopped and curtsied, a little simpler, palm upside and a challenging gaze directed to Thorin. Lyra's voice echoed and the taunting was clearly present.

_Lo and behold! The time has come!_

_ To war they go, the Sons of Kings!_

_ The enemy at your doorstep_

_ Beckoning, taunting, hailing war!_

_ Will they? Would they? Answer shall they?_

The elf lad beside him eagerly took her other hand. Her brow rose to add the challenge to the Dwarf Prince. She waited and chuckled softly when Thorin stood up with a glare. Lirin's eyes crinkled at the edge in her glee.

_Indeed, indeed, heed they the call!_

She waited for them at the end of the dais. Thankfully, they bear no arms and with it Lirin turned and led them to Lor who gave them a sword each. Blunt edges were for safety, but with proper use could be deadly. Another advantage was that the elf lad hadn't reached his full height just yet. He stood just enough for a fair fight to the dwarves. Lirin took the sword offered by her brother, giving time to their opponents to find their balance on their own weapons and for Lyra to catch her breath. She slashed circular arks as she stood her ground. She placed her other hand on her hip and relaxed.

_And so preparations were done_

_ Off to the battlefield they go_

_ War cries echoing like thunder_

_ Do not hold back, the foe do not_

Unfortunately, Lirin had Thorin as her opponent and as they stare down each other, she could see the mockery and doubt in his eyes. She smirked beneath her mask. Is that because she was a little girl? The tension built with Lyra's words and the beating of the drums.

_Back to back with allied limbs_

_ Alliance through though lifetimes past_

_ Fight for Freedom! For thine people!_

_ Fight and Win!_

_ Kings-to-come!_

At the roaring and deafening first beat of drums, Lirin attacked. With every inch of her being, she didn't held back. Her blood pounded and the grin on her lips didn't cease. To where they lack in experience in actual battle, they made up in their acrobatics. It helped in their evasion and dodges like a charm. And it made the fighting exciting and breathtaking. Lor and Lirin took the time to flip and twirl over and around the other two. Lirin held onto Thorin's shoulders always surprising him when she used him like a building block to play around with. There were attacks that they charged head-on and blows that they cannot escape from. One on Lirins thigh, another on Lor's shoulder and more that would definitely be a pain in the morning. It was an even match, both parties not holding back yet not aiming for a kill. Lirin made it to herself her vow to protect her brother from heavy blows, their coordination a boon from bodily harm. She would deflect hard blows as much as she could while giving the time for Lor to switch back to the opponent she left behind. Lor, caught on and protected his sister with the same intensity and devotion. No words were passed. All they needed was a connection of gazes and everything would be in order. Nothing else exists, just the blades, the opponents and the battle high that rack Lirin to the very core. _Yes! Yes! Kill. Kill! _

But as always, performances must end. Lor's blade flew to the ground with a deafening clang. Lirin's followed closely behind. They stood, back to back and panting, at sword point.

_Our battle comes to its close_

_ Sons of Kings, victorious they seem_

_ Their foes at sword point, would they yield?_

In one coordinated move that set the final close into motion, Lirin moved Thorin's sword away from her neck with the back of her hand. Then she stepped forward while Lor stepped back. She slid through the length of the blade and took the pommel of the sword that was peeking out the prince's grip. Lor entwined his arm around her waist as a brace. She twisted the sword out of Thorin's hands, either that or he'll break some bones. Lor then twirled her around to face the elf lad. The elf lad already moved on from the initial surprise and prepared for the encounter, but Lirin used the blade as a shield and then forced him to relinquish the blade one way or another.

At the sight of the four swords on the floor, Lyra drew the performance to its absolute end.

_Alas, only Time can tell._

Lirin was thankful that it ended. It felt like hours, when in reality it was just around ten minutes. The blood was pounding in her ears and her heart was racing. Her head was spinning in excitement and now it was pain. Timely, she gave a curtsy to the Prince and then the Kings then to the audience. Cold sweat started dripping from her brow and she could feel someone hammering her head. Every curtsy was a risk of toppling over or spilling out the bile in her throat. Then there was a tremendous applause that quake the Hall. A myriad of emotions rushed through her heart making it almost explode. Relief and Joy were foremost, followed by pain and agony because her headache just morphed into a full blown migraine with the sound, amplified a plenty of times in her head. She could barely do a proper curtsy in return without swaying on her feet.

"Are you alright?" She just gave a nod it without thinking. Sighing in comfort at the security Lor's hand gripping her arm could give. They walked out the Hall the way they came, the thunderous applause not dying down. She wished it was more to the princes than to them. The moment the double doors closed, she leaned her forehead to the cold wall the biting cold alleviating the pain.

"That was close sister." Lor pulled her to the floor. She did and they sat there as they waited for Lyra to return with their mother. "I was really scared."

"Of the fight or for me?" Lirin snorted annoyed.

"Both. But you came pretty much later. You know, by the time you were swaying on your feet. We could have finished it a lot earlier." Lirin just listened, too tired to reply. The hits they received in the mock battle were not starting to hurt and she focused on their throbbing, counting each. "It was exciting though, the speed and the danger. Also, the way that you just know how to dodge and evade and attack them!"

"You aren't yet of age to do battles, Lor." She growled in indignation. "I'll gladly stop this and deny any more requests just to stop you from getting impulsive."

"Well Father taught us well, did he not? Mother even!" She dug her fingers to his arm in warning. "And they wouldn't even know! These masks prevent our names from being praised. They loved it!"

"We are but children, Brother." Danger lurked at her every word, her eyes like slits. "In a later time I assure you, you'll be known as a warrior, not a performer or a dancer."

"Would a dancing warrior suffice?"

"By the Valar, shut up."

**-TBC-**

Thank you to my dear reviewer, you have my heartfelt thanks.

More to come. Oh and sorry for the lame poems. I really tried there.


	5. Chapter 4: Intensity Discovery

Half of Heart

**Summary:**

The moment Thorin Oakenshield took on the mission of taking back Erebor with twelve other dwarves, another stepped up and took the mantle of protecting the people. It was Lirin Bladedancer, Wife and Queen to Thorin Oakenshield. Lady of Sieges. "Lie a promise then! Just for me!" (Mix of Book and Movie Verse) Thorin/OC

**Chapter 4: Intensity. Discovery.**

** TA 2770**

** Thorin: 24 years old**

** Lirin: 20 years old**

Life had been idyllic, simple and a little bumpy for Lirin. The plans she set to herself were going well. She had passed her apprenticeship and was now an official scribe and artist of Erebor. Her art style and paintings also improved greatly in the past years. In other matters as well, luck smiled in her way. What more she was thankful of was the absence of their names in the rumors. Indeed it was so long ago but the relief she felt when she heard the speculations of the performers and that they didn't even suspected her or her siblings was absolute bliss. The oath of silence made was very effective that to Lirin, as if nothing changed in her life and she could pretend that it was all a dream. Any more requests were turned down swiftly and after time it was lost all together. Celen wouldn't allow her children to have too much work in their hands and they would never ever be known as court performers. Her children are much, much more than that. Daeren let his children decide themselves when it came to that specific matter.

Her main problem these days though, was suitors. It was a well hidden and well avoided truth that she never let anyone (as long as she could) that she was of age. Goodness, by the lifespan of the dwarves they could have at least half their lives searching for a mate! She made herself to be as busy as she could to avoid them. It was tiring, and giving the rarity of women among their kind it was more of competition than anything else, especially when one was of good reputation and background. She felt like a prey being hunted and cornered at every turn and given chance. The amusement of it all can only last for so little time until it got undeniably irritating. She had to constantly watch herself to not snap at them or maybe throw something hard and bladed to their thick heads. She knew her place as a woman of court and the suitors that she had garnered made some other ladies envious. She didn't care. She could sit there and have them talk and prattle like the perfect little ladies some men were actually smitten because they were demure and loyal, and she wouldn't listen. She would be polite enough to act out that she was listening when in truth she was not. She would think to herself that she was doing it for appearances' sake and to at least try to get along with her age group, especially one with the same gender as hers. It was much easier with the children, the older ones and also the males. Yes, especially the males when it is around her age, unless they were her suitors.

Maybe suitors would be too much for a term. "Flirters? Hmmm. Yes. Flirters."

Flirters who wanted nothing more than to have her as their trophy wife. They think they can tame her? Ha! By the Valar, never! She would yield not to the unworthy.

_"Too boring a day this is Lirin. Monotonous." _Lirin looked to her left and saw herself in a red gown, with swords strapped around her waist and sitting cross-legged on a plush chair. _"It's been so long since we have some sort of adrenaline rush."_

_ "You do not call the evasion and hunting that happened every day exciting?" _Lirin retorted with a bland stare. _"Frae?"_

_ "No, I must say it is tiring. You know me and you named me and you made me. I am your Fire after all." _Fria murmured with a deep sigh. It was absurd, some may think, to have others know that inside her head Lirin is talking with herself. When in reality, she was sitting in her usual seat in the library and by her worktable, looking out the windows while she let her current painting go dry. The military journal she was halfway through lost its appeal to her. Lirin didn't mind her other selves, it was amusing and she dared not think too hard about it. It was helpful in times, irritating at some. She just went on with it, liking the advantages it offered and hating the disadvantages it came with. When she made these many 'me's in her head, she couldn't remember. Only that it started when there was no one to talk to.

She might be a child of the court but she could hear the whispers that criticize their parents, of the manner of their parenting, and them, for they were always so odd. Her name might be in the rumors but it was always in the speculations. Lirin was always the odd one. Lor had found friends with his age group, especially their cousins. Lyra grew to a beauty that many say was like their mother's and was always open for friends and fun. She, she was the silent and calm one. She was the one sitting around and in corners when all others were dancing and merry making. She would even be doing it with a book, reading and not caring of the sounds. People always look at her weirdly and rarely would they see her among the dancing. It would always be when either Lor or Lyra be the one pulling her to the dancefloor.

Frae was her emotions, raging and ever changing. She also was more complicated than what Lirin thought her to be. They were separate individuals all in all but they were all Lirin still. These were what composed Lirin. A result of circumstances and events. _"It's been long since you delved you own mind Lirin."_

_ "Hello."_ Lirin greeted the three newcomers. Newcomers who still bore her face sat around her in the available seats. Blue, Green and White. Logic, Nurture and Freedom. Water, Earth and Air. _"Wir, Eard, Ania."_

_"Yes. Yes. I do agree with Wir m'dear. It's been long since you've visited us." _Eard said with a small yet happy smile. Indeed, it's been long since she last 'delved' into her mind and talked to them _"How fare thee m'child?"_

_ "Oh I'm fine!" _Ania replied simply that Lirin chuckled. _"I had fun these last few days!"_

Frae scoffed and Eard giggled kindly. _"Glad to know Ania."_

_ "Something's afoot." _Wir's calculated voice came like a calm yet haunting breeze in their conversation. _"You come to us for retreat and to reach a decision. What is it?"_

_ "I am tired, 'tis all." _Lirin said, her hand giving a dismissive wave for such inquiry. Useless but still it was an automatic answer to buy her some time. _"I also don't know."_

_"Wrong! You ignore it! You don't know your own mind, girl!" _Frae exclaimed her hands pointing at Lirin. She was glaring and breathing heavy in exasperation and irritation. Lirin stared back as calm as she could. At these moments, as much as she could, she would be the unfeeling one. Her emotions were scattered to the four women in front of her.

_"Completely, I do not." _Lirin deadpanned. It was just plain truth. As said before, Lirin was a result of circumstances and events, some of her change and some did not. Maybe her perception was wrong. Ah, but she was no philosopher, psychologist or even a wizard, so we would leave it at that. Lirin sighed loudly.

_"I think it is about the routine." _Ania's voice was nearly just a squeak. She represented the child in her, young and free, shy and aloof. She was her before she even decided to be a scribe and to it Lirin wished that she never decided to early. _"You… We… Hate routine, yet we go along with it. Repetition makes us weary to the limit."_

_ "Also m'dear, you need not coop yourself here every day." _Eard was more than worried and it was making itself known with her eyes alone.

_"I go to Dale almost every other day!"_

_ "What bothers me the most is your play acting lassie." _Everyone grew silent at Frae's growl. Her brows were furrowed and her lips were in a very grim line. She was digging holes to Lirin's own eyes with a piercing gaze. _"You were and are and will always be yourself. You will never be like them however much your mind tells it that you wish it be! Your heart knows you!"_

_ "I… wouldn't want to have the rumors flying about!" _Lirin retorted, her fury rising at every minute. She tried not to glare too hard because she hated headaches with a vengeance. _"I wouldn't have any problems if I was at least MALE!"_

_ "Oh. You do not mean that!"_ Eard panicked almost standing from her seat, yet her eyes twinkled in amusement. _"As much as decorum and etiquette went, you love being a woman Lirin."_

_ "Why do you even care?" _Wir was staring at Lirin with calculating eyes and a raised brow. Her eyes were tired and she was weary. All of them were. _"You never cared before, why now?"_

Lirin opened her mouth to answer but was cut off immediately. She was going to say that it was…what? Beneficial? Entertaining? _"Going through the motions will lead you to some place you never wanted. You know you need to carve your own path, sooner or later."_

She believed what Wir said with all her heart and the words that tumbled out as an answer was a finality at itself. _"Knowing good and evil, right and wrong and being able to act righteously is enough for now."_

_ "You'll need your wits with you though." _Frae teased.

_"What?"_

Lirin blinked a few times, like one who was awakened from slumber. A habit really whenever she go meet with the Others. She didn't even have time to relax and acquaint herself with her surroundings when she froze. There was a very, very strong presence in the library. So strong that a breath hitched in her throat and she almost choked with it, even her stomach was having fun twisting around. The air sizzled like there was lightning inside the room. It was she was thrown into a thunderstorm in the middle of a desert. It even took her a few moments to have a semblance of awareness of what she should and must do. So slowly, she unfolded her legs and placed her feet on the floor. With a ready breath she stood up and faced her visitor. Ready for what? She have no idea.

"My lady." She gasped as she looked up to meet the gaze. Her neck almost snapped because the bass tone was so familiar to her. Blue eyes, haunted and storm blessed, stared readily back. It was blank with nothing else but courtesy and inquiry.

Prince Thorin. She couldn't believe the warrior that stood before her now was the same one four years ago. She had a problem having the mental image she had to be retained. He stood there, hands on his back and gaze steady. The…the dwarf before her was an adult already! He was now an adult who have seen bloodshed and understood it. In his calm she could feel danger and a fire that could consume her if she dared it to be unleashed. It scared and excited her. Her fight or flight instincts were warring. A shiver crept up her spine and she wished at least, that her façade was convincing. She curtsied, an escape from the smoldering eyes of blue fire. Mahal help her.

"My Prince." The words came out in a breathless whisper. "What service can I give thee?"

"I seek Sir Grivdn." His voice rumbled like it came from the very depths of the mountain and it made her skin quiver at the sound.

"Sir Grivdn?" She asked the moment she processed the question. It's been years since Thorin had been the 'keeper' and by the moment he was nineteen, the nobles that oversee the branches of the kingdom reported to him. So, why? Thorin's presence was next to none when the nineteenth year passed, not that she took notice of it. He gave an affirming nod to her question. "The head scribe is in the treasury with the King. He was summoned there by His Highness."

The shadow that fell on his face was all too familiar to her. She felt the darkness in the room like arms of a crazed lover. She knew something was wrong the moment Thror started summoning Grivdn too often to the treasury. Not so long after, rumors came out of the gold sickness of the king. Her father had even said that it was true that Thror checks the treasures almost every night, his manic laughter echoing with the tinkling gold. The darkness was oppressing and it was a constant looming presence over the kingdom, often ignored by those who do not know yet could never be denied. It was long moments before Thorin gave a terse nod in recognition to her statement and then she waited for him to turn around and make his leave.

"If the Prince would allow himself, he could wait for Sir Grivdn." She would gladly kill herself after she blurted those out. It might be for courtesy's sake, but she would never have said that with such effect the prince has on her. Say no. Say no. By the Valar and even Eru, please say no. Lirin prayed, her stance as calm as she could. She pleaded to any god, creature, mystical being that could hear her prayer to grant it. She had no idea what she will do if Thorin agrees. Her hands were fisting bundles of her skirt behind her and she was sure they were shaking.

"Thank you Lady Lirin, but I must decline." Her name. He remembered her name. The thought was last in her mind because she desperately wished that the relief on her face wasn't evident and the sigh was more of regret than salvation. The moment he was gone, she collapsed back to her seat and gulped air as if she drowned a few moments ago. She did this and tried to calm her heart, tried to stop the pounding in her ears and tried stop the shaking of her hands. Her heart was thundering against her ribcage in painful bursts. A feeling she haven't felt since four years ago when she was at sword point by the very same dwarf.

**-TBC-**

Thank you for your reviews and continuous reading of this fic. I am really, really glad that someone is reading this. Thank you.

Please review if you have suggestions and criticisms. I would like to improve my writing very, very much. Questions and inquiries are also welcome.

Till next chapter.


	6. Chapter 5: Still Lucky?

Half of Heart

**Summary:**

The moment Thorin Oakenshield took on the mission of taking back Erebor with twelve other dwarves, another stepped up and took the mantle of protecting the people. It was Lirin Bladedancer, Wife and Queen to Thorin Oakenshield. Lady of Sieges. "Lie a promise then! Just for me!" (Mix of Book and Movie Verse) Thorin/OC

**Chapter 5: Still Lucky?**

** TA 2770**

** Thorin: 24 years old**

** Lirin: 20 years old**

_Pitter patter, roars of thunder  
Raging black, a sky asunder  
Call of yonder, "Here's the plunder!"  
Sagacious thieves, down and under._

The rise and dip of voice and soft pitch was a sign of comfort. The imagery and similes were a great help to wandering minds. Lirin treasured moments like these more than ever. The comfortable atmosphere and companionship she rarely had. She ended her stanza with a sigh and turned to her companion, readily meeting the dark eyes she had known all her days. "Hudon? Your turn."

Hudon was her childhood friend. He was five years older than her and was a dear to her and her siblings. He was one with a silver tongue and a quick mind, so Lirin definitely loved doing verbal arguments with him about everything and nothing. Yes, he was the one who always ruined her paintings in the past but he learned his lesson well. Lirin always loved his companionship because with him, she could be herself and just have fun. He knew almost everything about her and she was at ease with knowing that he did. She could tell him about her problems and even her other selves without him turning away. She saw him as a gift from Aule as a companion and she thanked the great Valar every day. Hudon was family to her. Lirin despaired when she received news of his enlistment to the army, because she would be alone almost all the time! So this was one of their rare get-togethers and she made time for this, for him.

"Under, right?" Lirin hummed in agreement, looking out the windows and seeing figures and stories in the clouds. She sneaked a glance to Hudon as he thought of his answer and could feel happiness burst to have him beside her. She'd been alone for long ever since she abandoned the company of the court ladies and she tried hard to be happy about it. She found company in her books, her mind and the nature outside but still having someone to talk to outside your family was happiness at itself.

_Under the sun were softened hearts,  
Playful smiles like sweetened tarts,  
My heart's lost, in her hands it was,  
Her heart I wonder, would it be mine?_

"Her heart I wonder,"Lirin repeated softly, her mind racing like swift arrows. She could feel the dark gaze on her and slowly, she met it readily with her own. "Would it be mine?"

"Would it?" Hudon asked, breathless and waiting. She saw the black eyes swirl like ended abyss and she felt curious. Something important was happening and she didn't know what it was.

"That…" Her mind raged, her instincts demanding something to be done. What?! She knew not. "That's nine syllables."

Snap. She could hear it with the sudden disappointment that flooded into Hudon's gaze. He looked away and sighed in what he thought was frustration. The awkwardness was palpable and she knew she did something wrong. Silence took reign between them and it was ringing in her ears, mocking her for her naiveté. She counted the syllables of the last line with her fingers and pasting a large grin that never reached her gaze, she said, "Unfair Hudon. That's not in the rules."

A sheepish smile was the reply. "One syllable. Let it slip?"

Lirin shrugged and started thinking. Her fingers tapping on her chin as she thought of the right words to say. "Mine…Mine…Mine. Ah!"

_Mines of gold, -_

"Wait! That's a different mine!" Hudon cut through with a frown, his hand gripping her arm to snap her out her reverie. His eyes were almost dead to her sight. "Unfair Lirin."

"We just established that the last word be the first." Lirin retorted readily, not minding the close distance their faces were. Her breathing was even and her tone secure. She was always ready in these kinds of arguments especially, when she knew she will win. "Doesn't matter the meaning of the word. So hush and listen."

Hudon grumbled something under his breath that she didn't quite catch. Then, he let her go and set back to his former position.

_Mines of gold and a silver cold  
The scales of red and eyes so old  
Luxurious lay and bedded on  
There it plays, the evil -_

_ "Dragon!"_ The howl and the whisper fell both in time that Lirin didn't know if it was from her lips. Yet, the echo of that deep voice was wailed by the stone walls and her skin bristled in fear and unbelief. The windows slammed open and the air slapped her face with transparent whips. Deep howls of the horns of Dale cried in vain and the mountain shook, like a lover caressed. Dark clouds rolled with flaming undertones and screams of anguish permeated the heavens. Father. Mother. Lor. Lyra. Lirin's priorities set itself in succession.

"Lirin! Hudon!"

"Lyra!" Sisters met in a hurried frenzy, panic mirrored in their gazes. "Mother? Father? Lor?!"

"Mother is with Lor, they will be safe!" Lirin was already dragging Lyra out the room and into the crowded halls. Dwarves were running for their lives. They filled the halls like ants on the earth. Run, run she did it so. She kept a firm grip on Lyra's wrist as she fought her way among the crowd and against the current. "Lor will surely return as soon as he assures Mother's safety! I pray he not enter!"

"To Father then!" Lirin ran as far as her steps can take her, her thoughts scattering and organizing themselves in split seconds. Surely the dragon would come for the treasury and that was in the west wing of the kingdom, they would be safe for a while as long as they not cross its path. The real danger would be the debris and the fire that surely would spread in this siege. She could hear someone calling her name and she turned to see Hudon fighting the crowd to reach them. "Hudon! Find your family! Leave!"

Then she resumed running, never looking back. She thanked the high ceilings of the halls as they wound their way, because they still have time to search for their father and not die in immediate suffocation. The panicked crowd grew and moved like raging waves of the sea and more than once was she bumped to the floor. Ran and ran, they did and when she could detect the smoke in the air, Lirin started shouting for her father. Lyra was more than willing to follow suit. They searched with their eyes for the familiar gray-white hair and tall stature. They listened carefully through the groans and pants for a reply to their call. "Daeren! Father! Where are you!?"

"Lirin!" She was immediately dragged another way. She turned and fought for balance as she tried to see where Lyra was leading her to. She saw her father being supported by a much younger dwarf and he was unconscious at first sight. The tears that streaked her cheeks were both of relief and the sting of the smoke. "Father!"

"H-he saved me!" the dwarf explained between chokes and coughs. Lirin examined immediately for any life threatening casualty and when she found none to her untrained eye, she let Lyra took Daeren's other arm.

"You would be safe if you follow the flow of people." Lyra was swift in her denial. Lirin continued nonetheless. "The dragon would go straight to the treasury. Be careful of the fires and falling debris."

"Lirin." Lyra was almost hysterical. "What about you!?"

"Go!" She hiked her skirts around her thighs and was running before Lyra could even call to her again. She ignored everything and ran. She wanted to-. Needed to -

_"See the dragon!" _Frae's anger pounded in her head. It didn't deter her but egged her even more. She was running like a frantic and crazed child.

_"Lirin! You must listen, turn around!" _Eard was pleading, her tears was Lirin's own.

"_Stop! Turn around! Flee! Flee!" _Ania cried, hands flailing.

_"Hush! You know you want it to!" _Lirin growled like a cornered panther. Her feet not stopping as she dodged debris and obstruction to her path. The smoke was getting into her and she was gasping for breath. Irritated, she ripped part of her skirt and put it over her nose and mouth. The ground was shaking in light tremors and she knew she was getting close. She persisted, however the very home she has tried to kill her with dangers at every turn. She didn't even think of the pros and cons. She knew she was being impulsive, but at the same time she was an opportunist and to see the dragon was a great one to her. Dragon. Dragon. Dragon.

_"You surprise me with your stupidity." _Wir's sarcasm flowed to her like a sudden waterfall. A smirk made its way to her lips as she skipped over a fallen wood post. _"Make sure you don't do anything stupider and be sure you make this out alive."_

"Of course!" The giggle that came out her lips was an echo of Frae's sudden laughter. So she ran still, lungs protesting and her feet trying to take the blistering heat of the floor. Fear. Excitement. Glee! Wir was right she was stupid, crazy even. She was stupid to feel such things when she was more likely running to her death.

"Mother!" That piercing wail undid her. The mist of wanting to see the dragon dissolved into nothing and quickly she made a very sharp turn to where she heard the voice. She tore open doors and searched amidst the burning tapestries and broken columns. "Mother!"

It was a little girl. She was crouched in a room, wailing and choking in the smoke for her mother. Her dress was black with ash, soot and dust. Lirin didn't think. She just scooped the child up in her arms and turned to flee. In time with another wail, she felt a hand, she was sure it was, brush her ankle. Horrified, she turned to look. She would've wailed with the child then and there if it wasn't stuck in her throat and choked her. Blank blue eyes stared at her from the abyss, mouth agape in a middle of an agonizing scream and an arm outstretched to push away. There lay the girl's mother, broken and dead, crushed by a fallen column. Lirin fled thinking of nothing and seeing the face everywhere she look.

"I am sorry." She chanted to the girl's ear as she ran. Tears making river tracks on her soot filled face.

Lirin didn't know when they got out. All she knew was that the moment she smelled fresh air, she collapsed to her knees and cried on the girl's shoulder. Her chanting was unceasing, a prayer and an oath. "I am sorry. Sorry. Sorry."

She held the girl's hands in hers tightly, like her life would vanish the moment she let go. They were both crying for the mother and Lirin, for the little girl too. If onlys and What ifs ran through her mind unceasingly. Too many died and this reality stabbed her with a blunt and bitter knife. It mocked her, 'what of the dragon now?'. It called her the foolish child.

_"Help us!" _That faint shout made her look up. The voice sounded so far and when she looked up, she was in time to see the elves approaching in a great army. A bitter chuckle escaped her chapped and blackened lips. A voice in her head spoke, cruel and menacing.

_Run, run, run! Back to your tree houses  
Turn back! Turn back! For Death is here!  
Save your fathers and your brothers  
Hell's Gate is open, dare ye enter?_

A flood of relief, cold and apathetic, rushed through her the moment the elves turned around and marched away. Her head fell back to the girl's shoulder and tired and grieving. The tears were yet to stop.

_A great deed, turn back and flee  
And paint smiles on mother's faces  
Laughter to the parted lovers  
Flee fast and live another day_

A broken smile settled grimly on her lips.

_For Death lurks beyond the Golden Gates._

**-TBC-**

Update. And by the Valar! Thank you for your reviews! I never even expected that many would love and read this story. Thank you to your favs and follows and especially your reviews. I may not thank you one by one because I have yet to find the time, but I send you each my heartfelt thanks. I am humbled by this support.

Thank you. And here we enter a new milestone in the story.


	7. Chapter 6: Forgiveness Given

Half of Heart

**Summary:**

The moment Thorin Oakenshield took on the mission of taking back Erebor with twelve other dwarves, another stepped up and took the mantle of protecting the people. It was Lirin Bladedancer, Wife and Queen to Thorin Oakenshield. Lady of Sieges. "Lie a promise then! Just for me!" (Mix of Book and Movie Verse) Thorin/OC

**Chapter 6: Forgiveness Given.**

**TA 2770**

** Thorin: 24 years old**

** Lirin: 20 years old**

Grief, weariness and fear hovered in the air like a choking grip more than a breathing supplement. The last weeks were spent counting the numbers, trying to feed the people, fleeing from Smaug and grieving for their losses. Thorin swiftly and willingly took up once again the mantle of being the 'keeper' of the people. Weeks on end he roamed the tents of families and dwarves and caught up with however he could help them with. He counted the number of soldiers and warriors, the number of orphans and youngsters and the disabled among them. He led them when his father couldn't or his grandfather. He took work and jobs wherever he could. Eat as little as possible for his siblings to have more. Their numbers dwindled considerably and the news of Erebor's fall came as a horn cry to other nomad dwarves to join them. It also called unto enemies, for indeed they were in their weakest points of their lives. There were days of naught and in blind automaton they walked, ran and searched for safety.

This was the first day of relative calm the survivors had in long. Thorin collapsed on the stone floor in an undignified heap in a corner of an abandoned hallway. He leaned back on the wall with his eyes closed and breathing deep. At last, some rest for him. He could feel his muscles throbbing in exhaustion and the seductive lure of sleep weaving its spell.

"Brother?" He opened his eyes tiredly and his sight showed him only a fuzzy haze. "Brother?"

"Dis." Thorin offered his hand and pulled her to his lap, arms around her in an affectionate hug. "How're you?"

"Fine." The lass leaned to her brother's chest, listening to his heartbeat through all the layers of cloth. She was so much like their mother. Late mother. Thorin's arms tightened even just a little. No tears threatened him now, his eyes dry and body plainly spent from his grieving. "Do you think we can see the lady now?"

Thorin's thoughts halted and where whirled sharply another way. Images, sounds, smells and emotions gathered like a hurricane and composed memories as clear as daylight. It was always the same, always triggered by Dis' request to see the lady.

_Adrenaline rushed through his being like a fire unleashed. (Ironic because his land and home is being destroyed by such.) His legs demanded movement and the moment he set his grandfather and father to safety, he walked off to find the rest of his family. His eyes roved quickly, heart pounding like a hammer to metal. Painful as his conscience stabbed him for his bias choices of who to rescue first. His mind whispered to him in dark voices, saying how he loved his father more. How he was no different from those dwarves who degraded women, the ones he promised never to be. Whispers of macabre and ashes, sang to his ears. Tragedies were cackled like it was the happiest comedy. Panic grabbed and mingled with his adrenaline, dancing a deathly dance, and they made horrific images flash through his mind._

_ "Frenin! Dis!" His voice was hoarse and the smoke was like gravel in his throat. "Mother!"_

_ Possibilities, bad ones, sped through his mind like fired arrows, swift and many. It clenched his heart and twisted his gut. His hands were white fists as he continued to call out. His pace was going faster and his steps as long as his legs could give him. The names he called were prayers that they be safe._

_ "Brother!" Frenin's presence when he approached him with a limp was like a taste of water in a desert. A relieved smile was mirrored between them, their blue eyes brightening even if a little. "Father? Mother? Granfather? Dis?"_

_ "Father and Grandfather are fine." The clenching loosed a little, and Thorin felt like he could breathe again even a little. "I am seeking our girls."_

_ Frenin immediately proposed a split and before he could even agree, his brother was gone limping away asking questions to passing dwarves. Thorin immediately continued his search, pinpointing children because surely his mother and sister would be together. Blackened figures he could barely recognize were huddled together and all of them were grieving and searching like him. One that took his attention was a girl being hugged by an older one. Sisters they seemed. He decided he should go imitate Frenin and start asking questions. He inched closer and with every step, familiarity buzzed like a bee to his ear. He could hear murmurs and that even egged him closer. Anguish, grief, sorrow, despair and loss reverberated like strings with every murmur. When the girl looked up from the lady's shoulder, relief and a seed of hope continued to grow, fighting its way from barren heartache._

_ "Big Brother!" Thorin immediately crouched beside them, glad to see his sister safe. In his joy, he kissed Dis' forehead and turned to the one who surely saved her. Poor lady was gripping on his sister's hands and they were shaking. She was slumped looking on the ground as if waiting for her punishment. Her hair covered her face from his view, yet he could see the tears dripping to the ground. He leaned closer and tried to listen._

_ "Miss?" He reached out and touched her shoulder. She immediately flinched and bowed lower, her murmurs getting louder._

_ "I am sorry… Please forgive me… Please, I am so sorry." The words tumbled out in between shaking sobs. She didn't let go of Dis' hands and Dis just held on too. It confused and disturbed Thorin. Why was she crying forgiveness? Her words continued in a cycle. Her broken state was so desperate that it struck a chord in his soul. He held onto her arms and forced her to face him. She didn't. He tried harder. She turned to him, head still bowed and hands like vice-grip around Dis'. "I am sorry."_

_ "I should be thanking you Miss!" He squeezed her arms, wanting and needing to get her out of her stupor. She scared him. Pained him. Her grief was like doom has happened and there was no more hope for her. "Thank you for saving her!"_

_ "No!" She struggled to free herself, a futile attempt with how he held fast. She looked up to him and sobbed. "I didn't save her! She… if only…Then…"_

_ "I could! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" She was in hysterics. Tears made a waterfall on her face. Her brown eyes were filled with immense pain and guilt. Thorin could see it, she was seeing and witnessing again and again whatever it was that made her a wreck. Again and again. She looked like a Valkyrie fallen from grace. Struck down by the very hope she held onto. It was unnerving, how she looked at him and saw nothing. "She's dead!"_

_ He didn't know if he was shaking because she was or he was shaking wholly by himself. She was so broken and he needed to know why. "Lirin!"_

_ She snapped a look at him, recognition of a split second before she passed out into his arms._

Lirin. One 'mother' from Dis said it all and he understood what Lirin was saying. What he did not understand was the effect it had on her. What did she witness for her to break down? It was disconcerting to see someone not even family, grieving like the heavens have fallen for a lost loved one she wasn't even past acquaintance to. It left him speechless. What did she see that made her beg for forgiveness?

She was deadweight when he scooped her up in his arms. Various bruises and burns marred her arms and legs. Her bare feet were embedded with stones and splintered wood. It surprised him that it didn't even bleed. One must be really light footed to achieve such feat, especially in a time of calamity. Her hair, long lock now black with ash, was burned unevenly. Already some locks were falling away.

Amidst the smell of smoke and ash, she smelled of rain.

"Thorin, can we?" His surrender came in a sigh and he felt, more than saw, Dis brightening. She hopped off his lap and waited for him to stand up. "Can we?"

"Let's ask Father first, shall we?" He stood up, summoning as much strength as he could. He treaded his fingers through hers and started walking slowly. He relished the smaller hand in his and indulged Dis in making the hands sway to and fro. He let his mind wander and have Dis lead the way to where their father was. He took comfort in having her close to him. She was their sunshine, like their mother was. Smiles bright and hope light. "Dis!"

She slipped out his fingers so easily that he thought she vanished. He even had an epiphany of some sort as he watched Dis running away. "Dis!"

"Lady! Lady!" The little princess ran. She ran to Lirin and with this Thorin paused in his approach. Lirin just came out from the 'royal wing' and he deduced that his father had summoned her. Thrain had promised Dis that he would reward her in some way in which she wished to. Yet as Thorin watched her, he saw no mark of honor. What more was that she looked like the walking dead. Her locks were chopped unevenly, only the burnt parts were taken away. She was also out of reality, it seemed that she could not see or hear anything. What happened? "Lady!"

He continued walking the moment Dis hugged Lirin's legs, almost sending her tumbling to the floor. He saw the horrified expression that fell over Lirin's being so clearly that he couldn't push the thought away. Dis wasn't aware of it, thus she continued on calling her attention and for her to look down at her. He was already by their side when the small smile that stretched her lush pale lips won an internal struggle.

"Your Majesty." Lirin greeted him with a small bow then she turned to Dis, patting her head. "Little princess."

Her tone was light yet in her eyes he saw apathy and not even a sign or flicker of recognition. It confused him. Was she too deep in her hysterics and guilt that she didn't recognize the girl she saved? What of the horrified expression earlier? Was it a natural reaction now to any little girl she encounter? But surely she must know, Thrain just talked to her as the situation seemed to imply. He couldn't deny the dark shadow that was on her. Still, he kept his lips sealed, watching and waiting what it was that Dis was really intending to do and if his sister would truly go with her word.

"Come! I need to tell you something!" Dis tugged at Lirin's hand, pulling her to her level of sight. Lirin followed her request and half-sat, half-kneeled in front of her. Dis immediately engulfed her into a hug, burying her face on her shoulder and started whispering. Thorin knew what she would be saying and so he watched Lirin's countenance. It was a revelation. The darkness dispersed and the black in her eyes leaked out like invisible tears. Then they twinkled like gems, even if it was a little dim. The smile on her lips wasn't even faked and as if the burden she lifted for weeks on end was lightened like air. Dis stepped back when she was finished, an infectious smile on her lips. "So don't be sad.'lright? Smile?"

"I am." Her tone was bright and like tinkling bells. Thorin realized that the matter did bear her down and that Dis' forgiveness was greatly and immensely needed. It was a guiding torch to the darkness she was lost into. His admiration to his sister heightened, yet his intrigue to Lirin was no amount dissolved. Now, Dis held Lirin's hands and there was comfort, not desperation, in the action.

"Wider!" At this demand, Lirin chuckled, soft and breathless of one who found hope in a fruitless journey. How many sleepless nights did she endure? How long did she traverse the dark abyss? His musings were cut short when Dis' own exuberant laughter rang across the halls. "There!"

"Thank you dearest." Lirin spoke with an affectionate voice. She stood slowly and Thorin saw that at the very least her wounds and burns were healed nicely. "I am in your debt."

"And I, yours." Dis said with the same tone, her face a sunny disposition even in the darkness of being underground. "You will keep it a secret, yes?"

"As you wish my princess." Lirin made a low curtsy to both of them and turned to leave the two alone.

At the following events we turn to Lirin's perspective. She was relieved and freed. Dis' words saved her from the darkness that engulfed her in the past days. It cleared the haze in her sight that made the word a bleary and dreary place. She could feel and breathe again. She wasn't completely healed. No, definitely not. Even then she could see the haunting blank gaze that calls out to death. She wished that maybe dear Time would heal the wounds to a dull ache. The moment she turned her back to the others, her smile sobered her eyes darkened once again.

If only in some way she could exorcise the images in some way.

"Wait!" With a gasp she whirled around. Too deep in thoughts she was that again she was caught unaware. She admonished herself in this matter. She should stop spacing out in situations like this. Thorin was the one who called her, his hoarse voice a giveaway as it was. Lirin observed him curiously and Dis was doing the same. He was patting his clothes and pockets, obviously searching for something. She approached with a pasted smile of amusement and intrigue, the slippers her mother threatened her to wear hindered her connection to the cold floor. Her steps were glides and the smile was still brighter than before. Slowly, she will be back to the Lirin she knew, but in some ways she would also be better.

"What is it, my Lord?" asked she in a polite tone.

"Hmmm." She heard him mutter solemnly, then retrieving something from his pocket and he held it out to her in an open palm. The way he offered it to her was a reverence at itself and it she was touched. If the day wasn't so full of surprises already, she would have deemed herself an emotional wreck of a dwarf! "Forgive me for the very unpleasant timing. I should have returned it much sooner."

In his hand was a paintbrush. Her paintbrush and The paintbrush. It was the one that she threw at him on their first meeting. One action she didn't regret and found in herself that she was thankful of. Emotions churned and her ears buzzed in an almost otherworldly song. Her hope flared as the smile on her face widened. She took the brush with such devotion that her hands trembled. The glinting sharp handle end was a comfort at its own.

"Thank you." She meant it. It was the only one which survived through the Fall. It was her only link to her artistic past, to her works and to her ideas of old. "Your timing is perfect."

And in an act she was sure she would regret and would kill herself quite gladly, she hugged Thorin with a big smile, almost laughing. She even squeezed him before letting go. Then with red cheeks she turned and fled running.

**-TBC-**

I forgot to ask you who the girl was last chapter, oh well. Enjoy and you have my thanks


	8. Chapter 7: Roaring Fires

Half of Heart

**Summary:**

The moment Thorin Oakenshield took on the mission of taking back Erebor with twelve other dwarves, another stepped up and took the mantle of protecting the people. It was Lirin Bladedancer, Wife and Queen to Thorin Oakenshield. Lady of Sieges. "Lie a promise then! Just for me!" (Mix of Book and Movie Verse) Thorin/OC

**Chapter 7: Roaring Fires**

** TA 2780  
Thorin: 34 years old  
Lirin: 30 years old**

Time passed as swift as lightning. The survivors of the Fall of Erebor settled into a quiet land under the mountains of Dunland. Here they settled into a stifling type of peace, but peace it was still. They can barely live comfortably, because food was still scarce and Dunland wasn't a mountain of abundance. Yet, dwarves are stubborn and they persevered. Ten years after the Fall, they lived.

Lirin was still lucky.

"Father, it is time to go home."" Her whole family survived a miracle that she thanked with all her heart. They have survived, but not left unscathed. "Father."

Lirin stepped inside the forge, like she did every day, a habit and maybe a schedule. Most that survived the tragedy were merchants and fighters, because of this there was a great demand for the artisans. Also, the number of women dwindled dangerously low and were a given a limited array of choices of what to do. In time of this calamity, Daeran shed off any royal privilege and worked where he was needed most. Celen followed suit and the children were more than willing to be commoners. There was not much difference between their family and those of the families outside the court. One she could point out was that they just lived in stricter conditions. Yet, it wasn't time to think of the past. Her footsteps sent her to her father's side. Daeren was immersed in his work as a smith and armorer. He was hammering a blade to perfection and for a few moments she was hypnotized of the blazing red and the constant sounds of metal meeting metal. A tune made its way and before she could stop herself she was swaying with the beat of the hammer.

"Father!" She gasped when she caught herself swaying. Celen had requested that one of them pick their father from the forge because Daeren always lost track of time in work. All of them in the family caught that habit anyhow. Lirin, being the eldest, was more than willing. She had almost nothing to do. There was no library to stay in or even books to organize now. Her paintings and stories were still the only things that stayed. Her siblings and her family still loved to hear them. Lor immediately enlisted for the army while Lyra had taken the seamstress' life, for now. Lirin did what she could, still the odd one in the family as the people deem her. She helped her mother in daylight, while in the cover of the moon she helped her father. She loved helping them but preferred the cover of the night and the silence of the darkness, away from prying eyes.

"Mother is getting worried, Father." Every one of them was worried. In the family, Daeren took the greatest damage of them all. "Father, I'll take care of the rest."

So it was one of the hard days, Lirin sighed as she was at the moment non-existent to her father. There were days like this where it took so long for her father to be coaxed for home. There were easier days of course.

"Daeren, you could continue it tomorrow." Lirin's back stiffened as a flash of lightning ran through her spine. The downside of being in a forge and helping her father would be constant contact with Thorin. Most would definitely disagree at this but Lirin still couldn't muster comfort at his intense presence. There was always an awkward atmosphere between them. His presence always made a prickling sensation on the back of her neck. Her discomfort wasn't so easy to hide but somehow she managed. "I can close up as soon as I am done."

They've been doing this routine for about a decade, more or less.

"I can continue under your instructions Father, like I always did." She wanted to add that she was doing it for years. She urged with a little smile. With this she felt like she had value in the family.

"Alright m'dear." Daeren looked up and gave her a smile. She replied with one of her own. He placed his hammer to rest. He stretched his body hearing pops and cracks, while Lirin took care of the cooling of his halted work. "None of that love! Come and help me with my woodleg!"

Lirin gave a nod, her throat tightening in grief and pain. Woodleg was an endearment, to the wooden post that now substituted his missing left leg. She went to her father's side and stooped low to help him strap the leather that helped hold the post around his thigh. It was a horror when she received the news of her father needing his leg to be amputated. The sight of the mangled flesh was too much that she fled and wretched the meager contents of her stomach. It was a year before they settled into a routine, any routine at all. It was year to get used to the loss and the pain. Another year for her father to be able to work. It was agonizing for them to see the father they loved and idolized to struggle so low and in pain. Every night she needed to bite her hand to avoid herself from crying out. She strapped the leather in numbered movements, not knowing that her face was openly showing her shadowed thoughts.

"None of that Lirin." She felt her calloused hand on her cheek and she blinked a few times before her face once more turned to a fake happiness. Dutiful happiness. "It's been ten years my child. I don't want to see the shadows every time and fall into the abyss. Someday we might not be able to pull you out."

She just nodded as she stepped away to give Daeren space. She was close enough to assist him if ever he needed it. Daeren waved her away stubbornly always knowing her intentions. "Leave a note to the lads, aye?"

"Aye father." Daeren left with a wave, his uneven footsteps fading with every moment. The lads would be Lor and Hudon. Hudon survived the fall with his sister and to have an occupation, Daeren took him as an apprentice. Lor on the other hand, was an apprentice even when they were children. All three of them were. In the early days, Daeren would have pain attacks and Lor would substitute for him. Sometimes it was Lirin and she always needed her sharp tongue to cut through speculations that were thrown her way. They mellowed down after time. Lor and Hudon were the official apprentices. She was only a helper.

With a sigh, she turned from the door and set off to work.

She cleaned the worktable into a sense of order and then finished packing up her father's current works. Afterwards, she then took out the blades and weapons that only needed sharpening before it was finished. She set them on the table and searched for a whetstone. The repetitive stroked relaxed her and it was her favorite work in the forge. She loved seeing the change in the metal from dull edges until they gleam like moonlight, razor sharp. At times like these, she could almost imagine herself alone. As long as she could ignore her companion, which was nigh impossible with his suffocating presence. It was like her senses were in overdrive telling her that it was dangerous. If he kept quiet though, everything was fine.

Hours passed in relative silence, the sounds of hammering and the whetstone was an odd but welcomed tune. One. Two. Three. One. Two. Three. Numbers filled her mind and kicked out any dark thoughts. Any problems were forgotten. In the depth of the night, there was only her and the glinting metal. The night, the silence and the darkness were her friends. They were her companions. When she was done with her work for the night, she just sat by the fire and listened to the unceasing hammering.

"Lirin." She looked up to Thorin who was looking at her quizzically. He paused in his work and his eyes were raging with questions that she was taken aback with its openness. The silence stretched as she could see him considering his words. "You can go home."

It came out as a question or that was the way she heard it. You see, an unspoken agreement was made between them in the years that passed. Whoever finished first would go home and leave the other to close up the forge. It was always Lirin. Thorin would only disappear if he was summoned or if there were much more important cases that needed his attention. Lirin blinked owlishly at his question, err statement. She only stared at him for a few moments and he stared back. Both expressions were almost bland and null.

She patted her pocket and took out a small notebook that served as her sketchpad these recent days. She flipped it open as she spoke in almost a whisper, fear in disturbing the silence. "I would like to ask some help."

Thorin placed his hammer down and took a towel to dry the sweat and clean the dirt on his body. She certainly caught his interest. Lirin heard every movement as she sought the page she needed. She heard his approach and she waited as calm as she could. "How can I help you, my lady?"

She jumped in her skin when she heard him so close. She looked up to see him towering over her. He was looking over her shoulder and his arm on the back of her chair. In one troubled breath, she was assaulted by the smell of masculinity. Sweat, fire and metal were dominant and it enveloped her. When he leaned closer to peer at her sketch, she tried not to panic. Then she caught a whiff of something intriguing.

Oaks. She was reminded of the great forests around Erebor, of Mirkwood and the forests they passed before coming to Dunland. Flashes of hills and valleys, as well as open fields and blue skies came to her mind's eye. How can he, a dwarf of the underground smell of the outside?

"A beautiful sketch." She snapped out her trance and looked closely for his reaction. He turned to her with a smile, too close for her to be comfortable. "Your skills are exceptional Lirin."

She thanked the fire for hiding her flushed cheeks. She passed the notebook to him so that he would move away from her. He did and sat on a smaller stool by her elbow. She curled up on her chair and tucked her wavy locks to her shoulder. She watched him as he cast his calculating gaze to the sketch. "I need an honest opinion from a man about the design."

"Why?" His eyes pierced her with interest and curiosity.

"A gift." She replied with a fond smile.

"To a lover?" The red spread to the roots of her hair at the notion. The smirk on Thorin's face was a dark one.

"A thank you gift!" He merely raised a brow. She was befuddled and speechless to witness this side of the brooding prince. He was playing her! Teasing her even! "He… I can only do this for him in return."

"Why?" She had the urge to point out his love of said word. Why, why, why.

"He saved me." Her voice softened in memory, unaware that he was observing her expressions closely. "This is the least I could do for him."

"It is beautiful." She watched as his hands traced the sketch with a touch like butterfly kisses. It was a sketch plan of a dagger. It was small, around one and a half hand span in full length. The handle was narrow and intricate and the very blade was filled with design that could never be denied to the class of Erebor's artisans. There was almost no pommel nor tang or stopper. It was something a design he rarely saw, and in first glance one could even deem it more as decoration than for battle. "Why a dagger?"

She met his gaze readily, dark and mirror of fire as it was cast in the shadows. After a few moments she turned to her sketch in his hands. "It is efficient."

Then she reached out and let her finger touched the sketch, tracing it like he did a while ago. "The handle would be made with the strongest metal available while the blade would be the same material, but it would be mixed with mithril to strengthen it more."

"Mithril?" She smirked at his question. Dunland was never one for mithril. It was impossible to obtain mithril in their current home. "And this thin?"

"I have my ways, your Majesty." She left it at that. Her finger moved to the dagger and its scabbard. "Like him, as much as he tries to go unnoticed, his words and very presence cut through the wind."

"The handle would be leather bound to increase grip and accessibility in return to the loss of the pommel." The handle and scabbard were plain and dark. Lirin continued, "The dagger is him. However he dressed, even in beggar's rags, once cannot deny his stature and upbringing."

Her finger moved to the handle. "He is humble. I remember him as a proud lad when we were younger and I was awed to see how much he changed. Humility, compassion and loyalty, I see in him."

Then to the blade again, her other hand tucking stray locks behind her ear. "The blade is to remind him that even how intricate and great he is, he is just a dwarf. Whatever responsibility he has, he is still like us. He cannot be perfect and I wish him not to try to. I accept him as he is and I am proud and thankful of meeting him."

She took back her hand and looked at him. She was humbled to see that he was listening, really listening. He was looking at her intently. She met his gaze because she couldn't do anything else. The firelight sent half his features into the darkness and his eyes were hints of green with the mixing of colors. Her hands itched to swipe away that tempting lock obscuring his gaze. "He seemed to be a very good person as you describe him."

Her chuckle was soft as her mirth danced in her eyes. She didn't know that her eyes were almost golden in the firelight and her hair was wisps of the gold and wood and darkness. "My lord, he being a dagger itself is the very evil of his being. However beautiful a dagger is, it is still a dagger. Temper, pride, selfishness, greed and much of the like."

"A great comparison you did. I wish he knows what you said to me." His voice was gentle and deep, a rumbling of thunder. His eyes were open and she could see the whirling emotions, pinpointing praise and respect foremost.

"He knows my words." Was all she could tell him.

"A weapon to every being as a representation of oneself. If it be so, what are you Lady Lirin?" His smile was small, yet it reached his gaze and the blue of his eyes strengthened like a burst of light. She saw trees bowing down to show her the sky and the oceans alike.

"Double blades." She replied truthfully. At his inquisitive gaze, she continued with a small smirk. "'Tis a secret that maybe I can tell you in time, but not now."

"So what can you say, m'lord?"

"I wonder why you even asked Lirin, but I can see you are more than sure on what you are to do." He looked at the sketch then at her. "I envy the man you will give this to, for this is a gift very well thought."

"Thank you m'lord."

"Thorin." She chuckled at this and nodded.

"Thank you Thorin." She took the notebook when he offered it to her, a small yet happy smile gracing her countenance. The enigma that was Thorin, son of Thrain, was at least a little bit more understood. The awkwardness between them dispersed like smoke. "Thank you."

**-TBC-**

**Sorry for the delay.**

**Thank you for your reviews and to your favs and follows. i am so happy that people really tell that they like Lirin! Thank you! **

**Tell me what you think of this and the characters! (I am really scared of how I am portraying Thorin here.)**

**Review! Review! Review! I'll try to update soon!**


	9. Chapter 8: Competition Shadows

Half of Heart

**Summary:**

The moment Thorin Oakenshield took on the mission of taking back Erebor with twelve other dwarves, another stepped up and took the mantle of protecting the people. It was Lirin Bladedancer, Wife and Queen to Thorin Oakenshield. Lady of Sieges. "Lie a promise then! Just for me!" (Mix of Book and Movie Verse) Thorin/OC

**Chapter 8: Competition. Shadows.**

** TA 2780  
Thorin: 34 yrs.  
Lirin: 30 yrs.**

A dwarf must be adept in as many weapons as possible, because circumstances require differently at every turn. This was the very first lesson instilled to young dwarves who wished to fight. One can never be for one weapon alone.

Arrays of different weapons were on every wall and it was one of the many reasons Lirin often went this way. The training grounds were always full of activity. Recruits and experienced warriors alike battled and trained here to improve and to pass time. This was as near as the battlefield she could ever go. Lirin searched for a place to sit since her usual place was taken. The others didn't mind her and didn't bother her with her business, as long as she didn't go against theirs. She sat there, took out her pad and pencil, then started sketching whatever took her interest. The rest learned to ignore her, but the newer recruits always looked her way curiously, male and female alike. The sounds were continuous and she managed to survive the noise. She couldn't live in the silence forever. When she picked her subjects she did a very quick rough sketch and immersed herself to adding the details.

She was once again unaware of what's around her.

"So you brought us lunch?" A shadow disturbed her view of her sketch. She waved her hand, shooing away the owner of the shadow so she could continue her work. The person slumped on the ground beside her and watched her work over her shoulder.

"The lunch is for Lor, not yours Hudon." Hudon and his sister survived the Fall and being the new head of his family, established a life of comfort for them. He took care of Lor when he too, enlisted to the army.

"I know Celen made something for me there!" She slapped his hand away when he tried to peak on the cover of the meal. She didn't even look away from her sketch.

"Hello lovebirds!" Lirin immediately snapped out and glared outright with a fury of a thousand suns. Hudon on the other hand, had a goofy grin on his face. Lor was unfazed with his greeting and continued his approach. Hudon pointed at the lunch and Lor just shrugged in reply. Immediately the food was divided between them. It was enough for three and to the boy's appetite it was enough. She just carried on with her sketch when they were stuffing their mouths with foods. Nothing much changed between Lirin and Hudon, except Hudon was openly trying to court her. She denied every advance yet people thought otherwise. It also didn't help that the rest of her family liked the dwarf. They were still friends and nothing could stop that. It also didn't stop her whole family from pushing her to accepting the courtship.

She wouldn't be swayed. She is as stubborn as a mule when it comes to it.

"Lirin!" She looked up, surprised because the call sounded far away. Lor and Hudon now stood on the grounds, done with their meal. How she didn't notice, she didn't care. "Come on."

"Where and why?" She had a bad feeling at the identical grins on their faces. She knew it'll get her to trouble, one way or another. Always happened, especially when those two were involved.

"For old time's sake?" Hudon had two wooden swords and beckoned her with it. Lor was doing puppy eyes to get her to agree. "Just for fun. Aye?"

"Old time's sake was just this morning lads." She snorted, her eyes once again glued to her sketch. "Go along boys."

"Oh come on Sister!"

"No. Someone might come and see. I don't want that."

"We got an hour Lirin. Please?" Her sigh was audible enough that she saw heard the snickers of those two when she put down her work. As long as nobody saw, then everything would be fine. It was a good time to stretch her bones as well. She took the wooden sword and went to a stance. They circled each other, waiting for someone to break the rising tension. Without a blink, Lor attacked, aiming for Lirin's stomach. Beginner. She parried the blow and blocked a low attack from Hudon, then, she made a low arc on both males for them to step back. It went on like that, just plain and easy fun. It was nothing threatening.

"So you're training a girl are ye?" A slimy voice intervened that the three paused midswing. They immediately righted themselves and turned to the intruder. A dwarf was approaching them like he owned the place itself. Lirin schooled her face in apathy, concealing the disgust she felt within. Lor and Hudon were much more open. She knew the dwarf, unfortunately. She saw him when he was recruited two weeks ago. He has potential and was definitely a little better than his batchmates. His downfall would be his pride as high as Dunland itself. He boasted every win he achieved against his co-recruits and leered insults with his little band of friends when another fight was happening. Also, he is the most biased dwarf she had seen so far. He abhorred women taking arms and he announced it quite grandly. He always preyed at the weak and humiliates them in both words and deeds. "I've been wondering what a little lass be doing other than trying to fight. I thought you were even a fan of mine, really. A shame you sneak just for practice. Afraid to enlist and see real battle?"

Another thing to hate was that he was younger than her. She believed that he didn't even know of Erebor. She had a theory that he was one of the wanderers that joined them when the news of the Fall came. She hid the grimace behind a small smile as the dwarf prattled on. "And with wooden swords even! Bah! They should have armed you with true blades! How can you kill with those sticks? Or do you faint at the sight of blood?"

She was seething by the time he was done with his litany. Lor and Hudon were barely holding themselves back from lunging at the dwarf and end him then and there. She armed herself with a sweet smile that was yet to fail her. She stepped forward. "If you disapprove of the manner of their teaching, maybe you would be a better teacher? I trust them to have taught me much Master dwarf and yet you think otherwise. Maybe a fight for proof is in order?"

She continued with false sincerity, her voice shy and pleading. "I was afraid to approach you in fear you might turn me away that my poor heart will not take it so…" She gasped for better effect. "Will you teach me better, in a fight?"

"Real weapons." When he said that she knew she had won. She nodded and waited as he hefted a double-handed hammer from a rack. He shooed Lor and Hudon away with a rude hand, waving like they were stinking flies. They were standing in front of each other and he was staring at her. He was waiting for her to draw her weapon. Smiling impishly, she took Hudon's wooden blade so that she had two.

"I am ready!" She grinned like she swallowed a sickening rat in her throat. The dwarf laughed, his head bent to the ceiling.

"Don't kid me lassie!"

"No. I don't." The loud cracking sound when she punched his nose, followed by his tremendous scream was like elves singing in her ears. High pitched and loud. It was pure, unadulterated and evil bliss. Blood stuck to her hand as she back stepped to dodge his blind counter attack. She laughed that one punch an outlet to all her fury. "See?"

"Why you witch!" He was enraged and lunged at her with his hammer high over his head. She quickly stepped away from its path when he brought it down. She dodged each blow easily and with little damage. She couldn't actually dodge, a disadvantage of using double blades, because his hammer had wicked spikes on it. Spikes that could puncture and make her bleed to death. But, the dwarf was attacking in blind rage, a lovely show really, and she could easily spot his weak points and openings. She took them gladly. The advantage of using wooden blade came at this. She could push through muscle and thick clothes without any nasty bleeding. She hit the openings repeatedly, thrusting the sword hard through the layers of cloth. It took him a while to figure out what she was doing, especially when she was enraging him more with her occasional giggle and babbles. That was the effect of battle high and blood lust on her, another reason she never fought outside Lor, Lyra, her parents and Hudon. She easily get lost to the fight, blurring the lines of friendly battle to true killing. Lirin would have him fall to his knees and grovel for forgiveness. She'll make him fall from that mountain high pedestal of his.

"Oh! You broke it!" She giggled when his hammer split one of her swords in half. The uneven edge was a lovely sight to her. A hammer was indeed deadly in expert hands, but for a novice like him, it would be child's play. She praised him when he did manage to nick her left arm and sent blood running. She broke his arm in return and slashed the split sword on his shoulder. She played him, singing and giggling as she dodged his attacks. She even let him break the other blade before she brought him down to the floor. Taking into inventory, she received a nasty arm wound and bruises, while he had a lovely cracked nose and a broken ego. "Well Master Dwarf, it seems like I won."

She watched, her lips stretched into a Cheshire grin, as he try to calm his rage. She continued, "Shall we hear an apology?"

He struggled to get his words out and she waited patiently. "You-"

"Yes?" She crouched beside him, waiting and listening.

"You silly, psychotic bitch!"

The change was very visual, everyone present saw it. The smile on Lirin's face was no longer amiable, it was feral. Stunned silence usurped the room as everyone waited for something to happen. Everyone watched in bated breath. She crouched lower to the dwarf, her hair falling in disarray like a lion's mane. She looked the part too. Playtime was over and now it was time for the kill.

"You have a dirty, dirty mouth." Her voice sang like a haunting lullaby. She plucked off a brush from her tangled hair and held it high on his face. She was chuckling, a twisted type of happiness. "Should we cut your tongue off m'dear?"

The brush was closing in at constant speed. "I know who you are Dwarf and believe me, seeing your tongue squirming on the floor is bliss for many here. So out, out you slimy tongue."

The brush was tapping on his shut lips. The dwarf's eyes were wide like saucers and he was trembling, clearly terrified. The manic gleam in Lirin's gaze that her eyes were almost liquid gold that shone like tiny suns. She looked like a threatened warg in her fierceness and a crazed one in her actions.

"Out!" She roared as she raised the brush and was about to stab his mouth, quickly. His eyes rolled back and he laid prone on the ground the brush hairsbreadth from his lips. He was out cold from fear. A cold, blood curling laugh slipped from her lips as she stood up. "Poor lad. I would have preferred him piss himself!"

There came a deafening silence after. Lirin stood beside the unconscious dwarf with a feline grin while her clothes were rumpled and bloodied. The most disturbing was her eyes, they were still bright and occasionally she would giggle. Unknown to her, the first moment of the lad's first scream, the officials and trainers alike rushed to in panic. Their franticness called much more attention. In no time the training grounds was filled with people, soldiers, recruits and civilians alike. No one dared to move, looking at Lirin with a myriad of emotions.

"Lirin!" The brave one to overthrow the darkness was a general. He was Thrain's right hand and he oversaw the training personally. Vanan was his name. At his call, a cumulative breath roared like thunder. Waiting. Waiting.

"Yes?" Lirin turned to the man with her grin now a fervid smile. Her skirts swished as she turned, light-footed and with beat.

"Lirin!" In an instant after, Lor and Hudon were shielding her. Hudon had an arm around her waist pushing her behind him. "Sir… We… She…"

"Step aside lads."

"But-!"

"That's an order!" There was a moment of hesitation before the two stepped away. In a moment, whispers buzzed through the grounds. The two stayed close, very close to the lass, ready to jump at a call or sign of danger to Lirin. She on the other hand, was just standing there with an apathetic and bored mask. She was staring rather blankly to everyone waiting for something to happen that will deeply affect her and that is only when she would be directly involved, or any loved one of hers. This was and is a downfall of Lirin, she valued so much her solitary life that she was only starting to recognize the people who did not approach her. She was always the one approached. She spent too long hiding her sensitivity that only now she accepted and recognized the fluctuation of emotions around her.

Her stare was seeing through Vanan and the general, nowing where she was looking, turned and waited.

"That was exquisite fighting." He said to fill the silence. "Do you not agree m'lord?"

"We meet again Lady Lirin."

Lirin did a curtsy, even with her bleeding arm. Hudon and Lor followed suit but they had their eyes trained on Lirin in case something happened. "Prince Thrain."

"Forgive me for causing a ruckus, I will take my leave." She turned and walked to where she left her materials. The onlookers parted like the sea. Either in fear or another emotion, she dare not let her thoughts linger. Self-doubt would have its place later.

"Wait! Would you not enlist? You might as well volunteer with what you did Lassie!"

"No."

"You would abandon your responsibility to protect your kingdom." It was the Thrains's statement that made her stop. She looked at him with a merely raised brow. Her lips stretched into a tiny smile.

"Family first before everything else."

"Your denial will do you no good, lass." A warning.

Time favored Thrain's wisdom and Fate made a play of Lirin's life.

**TBC**

It's 4am. Graveyard Shift. I got school in the morn. And I just want to get this done.

Any reaction. ANY at all, please put it in your review. Help me please. You are my motivation.

Thank you for reading.


	10. Chapter 9: Know Your Colors

Half of Heart

**Summary:**

The moment Thorin Oakenshield took on the mission of taking back Erebor with twelve other dwarves, another stepped up and took the mantle of protecting the people. It was Lirin Bladedancer, Wife and Queen to Thorin Oakenshield. Lady of Sieges. "Lie a promise then! Just for me!" (Mix of Book and Movie Verse) Thorin/OC

**Chapter 9: A Year Later. Know Your Colors**

** TA 2780  
Thorin: 34 yrs.  
Lirin: 30 yrs.**

Drums were beating in a haunted tune. War cries rang in the still silence. The skies were dark and the winds roared. The ground was decorated into an abstract painting of blood. It was morbidly beautiful a combination of vivid red against a dark background, but Lirin didn't saw any of the colors. All she saw was blue. All she saw were blue sky, blue seas and barely distinguishable horizon. She couldn't hear any sound, but that of a rasped breathing.

This was one of the many kinds of her abyss.

Blue fire, seething hot and blindingly bright, engulfed her as she took a step and another, over the water and rippling outwards. The fire licked her skin in languid strokes and she let it eat her like a delicacy. The heat made her numb and the blue turned her raging heart to deathly calm. The various shades and tints of blue were bringing her closer to the darkening horizon with each step. She didn't know or realize as the sky turned dark she was the only beacon of light. A flickering fire of blue walking over the ocean.

"Lirin." The blood on her hands was gray in her color blindness, because all that she saw was blue. "Lirin!"

She felt arms wrapped around her body and a face buried on her shoulder. "Come back Lirin!"

She blinked away the gray and immense blue. Everything shifted to the dark underground colors. Her eyes took the darkness and she looked to the one hugging her. Dirty hair, tangled and dark, welcomed her view. The stench of blood assaulted her nose and to her relief, it her stomach didn't protest. "Mama."

"Lirin." Celen tightened her hold around her daughter's waist. Lirin automatically hugged her back, looking down to her blood tainted hand. It was stark dark red against her sun-kissed skin. The patterns were telling her stories and figures. Beautiful, morbidly so. "Welcome back."

"I'm back, Mama. I'm back." Her voice was quivering with emotion. "I'm fine. You can let go now."

Celen reluctantly let her go, her eyes streaming with tears and shining with grief. Lirin understood the ever present worry in them too. Lirin was always the odd one. Even amongst the dwarves she was a wavering sea. She stepped back and plastered a brave smile to her lips. Her mind was in slow motion connecting and forming different thoughts. She didn't shed any tears this time around. She knew her colors now, somehow.

Somehow.

"What are you planning?" Ah, and Celen always knew better. Lirin's smile turned cryptic as she held her mother's hands. Celen mirrored the smile, not knowing yet trusting her. "Be sure you do not do anything you regret."

"I'll regret it. Someday." She stepped back and gave a parting nod. With a swish of her skirts she walked out the room. "Lor! Lyra!"

The two fell in step on each of her side, a habit they've done a thousand times before. At the moment each step echoed, her resolve strengthened. A haze of purple seeped through her sight. Know your colors, a voice whispered. Lirin remembered the red she saw before the blue and the clear light even before that. Her back straight and her face set, she walked to her destination with no second thoughts.

"Where are we going?" Lyra's voice reached her in a whisper.

"I need your help." A confident smirk graced her features. There was no turning back. The grief was too soon and it was because of their plain stupidity and carelessness. Again, others would digress. She had tried to evade from fighting for fear of a consequence she could not face. Her instability was a constant threat, but time seemed to be drawing it out. The purple shifted to a sky blue hue. Her destination was getting closer, yet the smell of blood and the hanging grief was never weaker. The tragedy of this time was dealt with fewer tears, the dwarves now hardened with experience. It was the view of burning trees and incinerated cities the worst tragedy to date. The parted ones were honored, while the ones left behind always moved on.

Lirin's ire was palpitating. She lost. That much was certain. Again she had let her pride and fear hold her back before. Now it was for the better.

It was a lesson harshly taught and would not be easily forgotten.

"Halt!" She ignored it and moved forward. "Halt!"

She slammed the doors open, always one for dramatic entrances.

-x-

It was a trap and they fell to it too easily. The scent of agony was too thick and too early to return. It choked the dwarves like a deathly poison, like smoke of dragon fire. The trap and their fall resulted to anger and bitterness. Thorin sat by his father's right, his aura dark and his face grim. Who wouldn't be when they were tricked? Led into slaughter one way or another? What was more maddening was when the culprit was Orcs.

All of them thought it was a raid. A rather large raid composed of a hundred Warg scouts that strayed too close to Dunland. Instantly, Thrain mustered the army to meet the enemy halfway giving an unspoken order that they finish the task through the night. Thorin and Frerin joined the force, even leading troops of their own. They took with them as many shoulders as they could, wanting the job done as soon as possible. The quicker they finish the fewer casualties. It was the statement that drove them out the mountain and into the battlefield.

A grave mistake.

They marched home in victory, only to see their gates opened and corpses pillaged at the doorstep. He remembered rushing to the doors and still hearing the sounds of battle. Every turn he saw either a wounded or dead dwarf. Men, women and children alike fought for their lives that day. Their recovering numbers suffered a fatal blow. He couldn't remember what he felt then other than anger and guilt. It was a mistake that he knew, as clear as day, they were to blame.

Now he sat there mulling the incident and hating his incapability of thinking such tragedies in short time. He could feel his father's anger coming in waves and Thorin being a brooding lad, tried to absorb it. Better him than his father. The generals and councilors were talking in hurried words, wanting to appease and placate the royals to be given time for their own grievances. He was sure each one of them was guilty of such calamity to happen and was beating himself to pulp internally.

"Enough!" Thorin looked up to see Frerin slamming his fists on the table. The younger one sat across him and unlike them, he was openly furious. "We are going round and round in circles! This is pointless!"

"Frerin." His voice was calm with a hint of exhaustion. Frerin was impulsive, his emotions ruling him. Everyone knew of this. Everyone knew of the temper of the Durin's line.

"Do not 'Frerin' me brother." He growled back to the older. His eyes, much darker than Thorin's, spat fire as he stood up to enforce his words. The younger stared down to the older and the latter just looked up calmly, readily. "You know I am right! Nothing is happening as we sit here babbling of things we can never change!"

Thrain was silent in the whole exchange, listening closely.

Thorin's frown met Frerin's sneer. If anyone would ask the witnesses what they saw, they would say that it was a battle of fire. Calm and deathly blue against blazing and devouring red. Everyone waited for someone to blow up between them, and unconsciously they want to see what the heirs are truly capable of. The dwarves were always cruel and insensitive in such matters, always so objective.

"We are here to analyze 'the circle' and find a way out without having to encounter it again." Thorin was cold and everyone saw the strategist that he is. A remarkable heir of Durin and the inwardly applauded his level mind.

"Yes. We _did_." Frerin snarled at his brother, his gears running in a hyper. Each of them had a flaw so noticeable, Frerin's impulse against Thorin's bitterness. Both of these were in forefront as they clashed. "But in this walled circle, you seek a door! There is none!"

"Then what do you propose?" Thorin's growl was barely noticeable. It was so low it passed as a whisper.

Frerin had a smirk of victory on his face, his eyes triumphant as he stood straighter. "We push through the wall."

Thorin's immediate shake of head darkened Frerin's expression. "Metaphors will do nothing even if your words are plausible."

Any sign of victory was wiped off from his face just to be replaced by anger once again. "Well I at least thought of something!"

"And it was a good idea."

"No need to patronize me Thorin." Frerin scoffed with a glare, amusement underneath.

"Halt!" The doors slammed open and everyone turned. "Your Highness! They—"

Thrain just gave a nod of dismissal. The guards hesitantly stepped back and closed the doors. Silence. Thorin heard many things at once, Frerin's gasp and Thrain's quiet chuckle among them. His hitch of breath echoed and racked his body. The smell of Orc blood came stronger and Thorin didn't even flinch.

"Prince Thrain." Lirin and her siblings stood before them, all bloodied and war-weary. Lor pinpointed Thorin and gave a nod. Reasonably, the Prince returned the gesture. They've known each other for working together in the forge. Thorin's gaze moved to Lirin, raking her from head to toe. He was astounded. Orc blood decorated her in a morbid beauty and it was alluring. Her sky colored dress was stained by both dirt and blood. She looked like a warrior out of a painting. He spotted a limp on her left leg when she curtsied. When he looked into her eyes, he was thrown between a raging storm and crippling furnace at the same time. "I am here to admit my defeat."

Defeat? He turned to his father with confusion clearly written in his eyes, his face though was still calm and distant. Why was it that every time this lass makes an appearance he would be at loss of what was happening? Why was it that Lirin always made him confused and surprised? Of course, there were things that he knew through hearsays. One among them was that fight a year ago, where Lirin won using nothing but wooden swords. He never saw the damage done but it was said that the poor dwarf would suffer a crooked nose forever.

When it looked like Thrain had no plan to speak, he turned back to Lirin who was unabashedly looking at his father with a leveled and determined stare.

"You mean you are to join the army then?!" Vanan spoke with a wide smile. It made Thorin wonder if she was really that good for his father's right hand to seek her out. He barely turned to acknowledge him but he gave an ear and heard everything. He was still looking at Lirin, searing his gaze and mentally willing her to meet his eyes. All he wished was for a little acknowledgement, maybe even a smile or a nod like Lor did.

"Thrain, son of Thror, Prince and High General," Lirin took a step forward, her limp so noticeable as well as her tremble. Defiance was clear in her eyes, so dark that it was almost black. Bruises littered on her skin, a morbid painting of blue and purples. A long cut, bleeding, was harshly placed on her forearm. Another marred her face from the tip of her brow to the top of her ear. It made an illusion of blood red tears flowing on her face. Even her lips were split and bleeding with a fury. With all the hell she went through, she still looked like a fierce Valkyrie. She looked like one of Mahal's blessed. "I lay my life under your orders and yours alone. I will fight your battles and win them too. You said a year ago that I am abandoning responsibility for kingdom, so here I pledge to thee."

"I accept your pledge as general and prince." Thrain replied with a reverent tone. Thorin heard the respect and was astounded of how so immediately his father revered the lass. Thrain's eyes were trained constant and unwavering to Lirin's while the lass looked on. He could see her light tremble and he wondered it was of fear or of pain.

"One condition." Thorin couldn't help the raising of his brows.

He also couldn't help his following words or the bite of his tone. "You should have laid your condition before you pledged to my father lass."

"I will command a unit of my own. I will recruit anyone who is willing as long as they aren't enlisted to the army. I will train them myself unless some of your very own officials are willing to help me." She continued without giving a sign that she heard his words. "As for the purpose of this unit, it would prevent this tragedy from happening again."

"A siege unit?" A nameless general quipped in surprise, a mocking laugh followed his words. "Your false bravado can only last long little _lass. _You would need not only a unit but an army at itself! And by Aule, you are but a child. Whatever do you know of commanding a unit, as well as teaching one? It would take well experienced soldiers for such feat."

"And it will take a _child _to have the courage to at least think or at least act to prevent such tragedy from repeating." Lirin bit back with a false smile, it was too sweet that it was venomous. "It seemed that you were getting nowhere before I came in."

"We've endured your impossibilities lass!" The room erupted in to a roar of mockery and anger. Lor and Lyra stepped forward in support to their sister. He saw Lirin shrunk back, her eyes widening for a split second in fear. Lor braced an arm around his sister while Lyra moved even closer. The roaring went on but to Thorin every little detail to these siblings was feeding his curiosity.

"Enough." Frerin was growling once again. "Silence!"

Thrain gave his son a quirk of his lips in thanks when the ruckus silenced. Lor was now shielding his sisters glaring at everyone with a contained fury. Lirin and Lyra were clinging on him, their expressions worlds apart. Lyra was furious while Lirin's face was clearly blank, borderline apathetic. Frerin was fuming as he sent everyone, even Thorin, a dark glare. A few moments of silence passed before Lor stepped away enough for Lirin to step away from his arms until she was standing like before. It took a few more moments before her stance retained its former determination and now added with a certain darkness Thorin couldn't pinpoint. Her eyes were cold as a winter storm that the shift of mood left many speechless.

"Do not fret little one." Thrain's gentle tone warmed the coldness and it made a small smile fleet her lips. Thrain's authority was left unchallenged, except by the lass who was decades younger than him. Age separated them yet their eyes held the same need for action and somehow Thorin understood Thrain's inner workings. "I accept your pledge and your condition."

He watched as she sighed in relief, her eyes twinkling as if the fear she felt before never existed. He felt confused at his interest and surprised at his concern.

"I would help the lady with her plans!" Vanan volunteered. "If you would allow me to announce it?"

"Thank you general." She said softly, her voice quaking almost to tears. He wondered if it was from relief or because she lost something…or someone too. If so? Who? Thorin's heart hammered. Was it a cousin? An aunt? Or… He dare not think that way. She turned to Thrain with a sullen smile. "Consider your debt paid, m'prince."

She turned and dismissed herself without a glance back.

The ruckus resurrected when the footsteps faded. "I tell you Lord Thrain that it is a mistake! What possessed you to allow a child, a girl even, to have any sort of military power!? Commanding a unit of her own? By the beard, insanity I tell ye!"

"Be careful of your tongue Ganid, lest the lass hear ye and try to cut it off." Vanan chuckled darkly. Thorin was staring into nothing, eyes a storm of conflicts. It was his reaction to Ganid's mockery, the fury he felt was not only for the bias treatment and gender inequality, but for the insult to Lirin's person. Without even thinking, he glared with a coldness of the harshest winter to Ganid. It took him off without saying.

"You are dismissed." Was his father's only reply. The dwarves grumbled and murmured as they left, leaving the Durin's and Vanan behind in silence. It stretched on for moments and it was as if they were waiting for something to happen or at least for someone to break the silence. Some such as Thorin was immersed in their own thoughts, tumbling and mixing for some sort of coherence to the situation.

"Father? What did she meant of your debt?" Frerin asked. "Was it because of - ?"

"A life for a life." Thrain stood and swept a gaze to his companions. "I will check on Father and seek his plans and counsels. Vanan send my condolence to Celen."

Thorin's heart dropped to his stomach and he winced in pain. No.

"Daeren was a great friend to us. One not to forget."

"Aye." Vanan affirmed with a solemn nod, his features carved like stone in their sorrow. "I will make sure your message is received, my friend."

Then the brothers where left alone in their thoughts once more. Thorin's was of grief and despair because Daeren was indeed a great friend, one he respected among others. He remembered the elder's kind words and hearty laughter. He remembered his love for his family and for his craft. Daeren carried on, even when most of the dwarves whispered horrid thing behind his back because of his mixed heritage. They call him 'bastard's son' and of 'foul blood' like he was one of the Orcs. To the Durin Prince though, he only saw a courageous soldier, a great craftsman and a loving father.

"We should visit them." His neck almost snapped at how quick he turned to Frerin. The younger had a small smirk on his face, his emotions readable as the clear sky. Frerin stood and held out a hand. "Good idea, aye?"

"Indeed." Thorin followed suit a head taller than his brother and shook the offered hand. "Patronizing aside."

"Of course." The first smile, however grim, made its way to their lips as they stepped out the room. Beacons of hope.

**-TBC-**

Notes:

So… Sorry for the really late update. Finals is coming up and we have:  
1. Flash Game, 2. Online Portfolio Website and, 3. An ethical dilemma MUSICAL (for a minor subject) that are due by the week after the next.

We have Frerin coming into the fold. Daeren is dead and in memoriam, Lirin requested to have a unit of her own. The unit is important for her character development and I do believe it could actually happen, her volunteering (demanding) and all.

And if you do not know yet, Lirin has a MINOR case of multi-personality disorder.

So any reaction, do review. ANY at all.

Another thing: Is Lirin becoming a Mary-Sue? [By the Valar I wish not.]

You have my utmost gratitude for reading this story. I'm Out.


	11. Chapter 10: 'Lessons'

Half of Heart

**Summary:**

The moment Thorin Oakenshield took on the mission of taking back Erebor with twelve other dwarves, another stepped up and took the mantle of protecting the people. It was Lirin Bladedancer, Wife and Queen to Thorin Oakenshield. Lady of Sieges. "Lie a promise then! Just for me!" (Mix of Book and Movie Verse) Thorin/OFC

**Chapter 10: Lessons**

** TA 2785  
Thorin: 39 years old  
Lirin: 35 years old**

The siege unit started with twenty members of twelve women and eight men. All of them were second sons and surely women with no fathers or with nothing else to do. Lirin took them in without questions. All of them were younger than her, and she knew that the older ones would be too much prideful to have a little girl teach them. Her jaw always tightened at the thought. She just shrugged the speculations of like she always did. It also didn't help that her way of teaching was of different approach. In her opinion, it was much more fun and kept the memory of her father alive even if only to the family. Four years from then, no one can deny the efficiency of her teachings. Her unit grew from twenty to eighty. It was more than enough from how the unit worked. Within the two years after Thrain gave them the go signal for operations, no orc or warg, hide or hair, was seen within the boundaries of their home. No one openly questioned their ways.

"Right foot. Left wrist. Both ears. Right pinky. Left knee. Forehead." Each order was said without hesitation. The trainees tried their best to keep up without harming themselves. They tried to relay the orders as perfect as possible without being clumsy or even an ounce of unsure. "Heart. Throat. Nose. Tongue. Oh! There's no tongue."

Most of the trainees slipped by the last order, daggers and knives clattered to the floor as feet dodged their sharp edges. Groans and chuckles erupted in reply.

"You are too quick for them. Cruel it was, Auntie." A gruff voice interrupted the chuckle. Dwalin scoffed as he stood on the side. He was one of the unit's helping hand. Lirin saw him watching their lessons and without missing a beat, she invited him to join them. Too trusting most may say, but I think the lady has the freedom to do as she will, it is her unit, no? "I see where Lirin got her cruel streak."

"Oh. This ain't cruel yet dear." Celen replied from her seat on the side of the grounds. Most times, Lirin would personally train the knife and dagger throwers, she was best at it and it was the most effective. Dwalin barked a laugh. She stood up from her post and approached the younglings. "You did a great work today. Practice your fluidity that you would be more comfortable and more alert next time, my daughter wouldn't be as forgiving you know. Try stretching your limbs too. You may have your break."

The youth, raging between 20 to 30, dispersed and started their friendly chatter. Celen moved onward with Dwalin by her side. Beside the throwing arena was a circular ring for hand-to-hand combat, as well as those of the mock fights. At the moment, an older member of the unit was fighting three of the newer recruits, a lesson of cooperation and coordination.

"I must say Mama, they're getting braver at every turn." Lyra bounced to Celen with a happy grin. Lyra joined the unit without any doubt and Lirin let her, but her hawk eyes were on her whenever they go to battles. Lyra wasn't happy at the arrangement, but was thankful that her family let her fight in the first place. The siblings specialized in speed and stealth, as well as lightweight weapons to match. So to teach the recruits about the heavier weapons, Vanan volunteered to teach. "More reckless too."

"Well, it was Lirin who started it all."

"It's always Lirin to you Hudon!" Lyra turned to their friend, a sly grin on her face. "Be swift though, someone might steal her away! Say like Dwalin 'ere!"

Said dwarf choked on air and sputtered. "D-don't get me mixed-up with Lirin lassie! Yer sister wouldn't think twice of beheading me."

"Well whoever would take any of my daughters away, I want grandchildren. Soon." Celen grinned at Hudon's flushed face. The poor lad was so red it could rival a tomato. Lyra and Dwalin immediately went on to teasing the older dwarf. "When would it be Hudon?"

"If your daughter would only accept my advances and offers." He sighed, dejected and close to giving up on his love. Everyone knew of his feelings, even Lirin, yet it was unrequited. There was something awkward between them as the lass went barricaded their relationship to brothers and best of friends. Many lasses then were angry with Lirin for hurting such a fine lad. Hudon was a fine catch, if I may say. Every smile was pained even when his eyes were filled with hope. It was the same everytime he interacted with Lirin. Indeed he was a martyr. "If only."

"Have you kissed her?" He immediately shook his head, aghast at the query. "You both are prudes!"

"Well I do not want to chase her away!" Lyra groaned at this. No doubt they were two stubborn fools.

"She's as thick as the mountain when it comes to matters of the heart. A hopeless romantic, being surrounded by books and all." The sister dwarf huffed as she almost shook Hudon. She was exasperated, irritated and just plain desperate to see some end to all their skirting around! "She's virginal! No kiss! No courting! No –"

"Lyra."

"Sorry Mama. I'm still virginal too!" She said too quickly, embarrassed but true.

"Lirin is still not here?" A new voice intruded [and saved Lyra] the conversation. The group turned to see the princess filled with controlled excitement. "I am so excited I do not know if I am late already!"

"Hello Dis!" Lyra, ever the happy dwarf, greeted the princess. Dis was also one of the initial members of the unit and it was without blessing of her family. But, Lirin let her join without so much a second glance, and there she proved that she was a more than capable fighter and warrior. Within the unit she was treated as an equal. Lyra's eyes went to Dis' companions. "Oh. You brought someone too!"

"I wish you do not mind me bringing company." Behind her stood Thorin and Frerin, the latter exuding curiosity and excitement while the former was looking at the group with a façade of polite indifference.

"The more the merrier. Aye?" Dwalin broke the forming tension with a beckoning wave. The rest agreed with smiling faces. Frerin was dragged by Dis into the conversation while Dwalin and Thorin went a little way outside the circle, watching and observing. Moments passed in such state and I knew it was a comfortable silence, liking such states in time myself. There was a buzz in the air, almost tangible but still not so. It was like drifting between sleep and wakefulness. There, yet out of reach.

"She's been talking non-stop for years about these 'games' you play." Thorin told Dwalin his arms folded to his chest. Dwalin smirked in reply mimicking the position addition to leaning back to the fencing of the field. "It seemed that we are the last to 'join the game'."

"Well, it took ye four years." Thorin had no reply to that, not knowing himself how he could delay it to that when he was so intrigued, not that he will voice it out though.

"Would Balin be joining as well?" He continued, feeling his sense of reality drifting as his eyes slowly started to glaze over in the fleeting of his attention. Lack of sleep and nightmares would do that to a person and to Thorin it would be as frequent as the days. His eyes wandered, a trait that was always him, nothing different, nothing new.

"He wouldn't miss it if he was 'ere." He saw Dwalin shrug from the corner of his gaze. "He always liked the lassie's games."

"Well these games always caused ruckus in the lower levels." Living was taken deep within the mountain. The upper levels were often given to the military and also to some of the traders. By was lirin's request, watchtowers were made. They were camouflaged as the sides of the mountains and by far they were the highest points of their under-mountain city. It was said, a rumor amongst the warriors of the infantry, that Lirin's unit have the best watchers and were the most reliable source of information compared to the army's very own. Still though, the information would be sent directly to Lirin, then to Thrain. Most information though, as the rumors say mind ye, were already finished deeds and the prince rarely minded such arrangement.

"Well, ye should just stop askin' and start playin'." Dwalin challenged as he had in him a knack on pushing Thorin to accepting challenges without so much thought.

"Dis had dragged us here already." Dwalin's laughter made the others turn and look at them, smile of their own stretching their faces. "Might as well play and win, no?"

"We'll see about that."

They were distracted when two sure claps echoed in the hall. Thorin was surprised to see everyon stand in attention, not in that tense military attention but in excitement and anticipation. The buzz was now ringing in his ears as he turned to whoever evoked such change. Everyone was smiling as if something, the game, was to begin in a grand flourish of some sort of magic. Lyra immediately extracted herself from the group, rushing out with her arms open wide, like a child running in the fields of flowers.

"Lirin! Lor!" The siblings accepted the bear hug with their own, a group hug of sorts. Both, with two others, looked like they just crawled out from heaps of snow. Thorin mused that they probably did. He could imagine Lirin doing such thing and the image it produced in his mind's eye was enticing and amusing that it made a smile tug his own lips. "Welcome home!"

"We were just gone for two weeks Lyra." Lirin huffed then she turned to their companions. A female and a male dwarf, "You could unpack and rest. You have my many thanks. Do you think you could still join us for the game?"

"We wouldn't miss it Lady." The female answered as they turned to unpack. "Hildr and I will return as soon as we could."

Lirin called out. "Take your time Bryn."

"We will!" Seeing them through, Lirin returned her attention to her unit of eighty or so. A smile on her face she thought of whether to continue recruiting or stop for a while. It wouldn't hurt would it? She pushed the thought to the back of her mind, and settled to her role as a teacher and leader of a unit.

"What happened while I was gone?" She swept a look over them and then gave a feral grin. "You didn't slack off did you? Any news?"

"Well, Auntie was cruel with the dagger-kids a while ago." Dwalin piped in with a side glance to Celen, his tone not even giving away any emotion. Lirin's attention was piqued. "Almost everyone faltered and hurt themselves."

"What was the order this time?" She sighed as she shook her head in amusement.

"Tongue." Celen answered without missing a beat. The said dagger-kids were fumbling on the side in anxiousness of what was to come.

"Tongue?" Lirin's tone was playful and it made Thorin's brow rise just a little. He could see that she was in her element, these casual conversations about tactics and training. It was peculiar, her way of teaching. "Last time it was the nape, Mama."

She raised her voice for everyone to hear, especially to her 'dagger-kids' who were uneasy. Well who would when there was a possibility for a snapping mood change from Lirin. Her face though, was soft and her smile was motherly and there she gave them an important and practical lesson. "We do not falter. Every hit, scratch, nick or cut counts in a battle. Especially to my 'dagger-kids', you still have a long way to go."

Silence. Thorin was almost waiting for the crickets to chirp for something to break the silence. There was so much more unheard from that statement and he watched as Lirin kept it all, her eyes shifting from honey to maple to almost gold.

"Now, shall we play?"

The reply was monumental. Thorin stood there almost going deaf amidst loud cheers and whoops of delight. Dwalin was laughing beside him while his eyes were only glued on the lass powdered with snow, rocking on her heels. She looked like a child excited to go on an adventure not caring about anything than the thrill and the fun. It was an endearing sight, her happy smile was bright yet full of mischief. "Then get your mittens, coats, gloves and the like. Off you go, be back here in ten minutes!"

She sounded like a mother hen, Thorin mused. To think of it, she was the oldest in the unit, the only one past thirty. All of them were rambunctious younglings who always loved a game now and then. Now Thorin felt old. He might as well be the oldest, being even older than Lirin. He seemed to forget that Hudon was four years older than him, but let's leave him to his musings. He stood there, suddenly without a companion. Dwalin was gone from his side and he didn't even notice, to absorbed to his observations.

"You are not going to get any gloves lad?" Thorin turned to his left to see Celen with her hands clasped together. They've known each other to the point of past acquaintances, and he looked to her like a mother while Celen, mothers everyone. Among her family, Thorin knew Daeren and Lor best, having worked closely with them in the forge. Next was Lirin, with their rare talks when the lass helped her brother in the evenings. He admired Lyra and Celen from his observations of behavior and there was comfort in their interactions. "Lirin isn't lying when she said you'll need it."

"I am used to the cold, m'lady." Indeed he had his fur trimmed coat and he was dressed for winter but he was missing gloves for his hands. He wasn't lying when he said so, the cold of the biting winds and the cold of the insides were not much different to him. Celen just shrugged at his reply and turned her attention to the returning dwarves. Lyra bounded close and gave Celena pair of gloves and a long cloak then she left off as quick as she came. He spotted Dis and Frerin talking close-by and he couldn't help but smile at their excitement. They were also bundled up against the cold winter outside. Whatever Lirin planned, he was intrigued to find out. He was surprised when a pair of thick gloves was pushed toward him. "There's no need, I—"

"If you are to join our game, you need to be well equipped." Sassy. He was taken aback by Lirin being in front of him, offering the gloves like it was a life or death situation for her, while Celen was nowhere to be seen. "'Tis a rule of battle is it not?"

To that he has no excuse, so he took the gloves and slipped his hands inside. A little snug, but it will do. "Of course, my thanks."

"Always welcome." Then she was gone, skipping away like a bird in a snow scape. On the corner of his gaze, Celen approached with an extra pair of gloved in hold.

"Well, I believe Lirin found you first." She stuffed the gloves into her pocket and gave another swept of gaze through the room. " It seems that we were more than last time."

"What do you mean?" He took a quick scan of the room and indeed the dwarves that returned were fewer than those who left. Plenty of those who returned were younger and they were almost glowing with excitement, their faces split with grins. The room buzzed with it and he could almost touch , almost tangible. He couldn't escape it either and he caught himself staring at Lirin, waiting for the game to start and willing her to make it start.

"Of course we all have work to do and families to help. Lirin only requires the really new recruits to join, the rest are here for the fun." Two sharp claps resulted to silence and by then the room was about to explode with frenzy.

"Rules." Lirin's voice wasn't even raised but everyone was hanging to her every word. She looked more like an eager playmate than a siege lady. Also, she enraptured her audience like a storyteller, so far from a commander or leader. "No weapons. No magic. Just make the opponent's citadel fall then you win. Time limit would be until sundown, though I expect sooner."

Was it wrong that he found her captivating when she swayed on her heels as she explained? Her voice held such understanding yet a child so eager to play, affecting and intriguing everyone. "Also, about the teams, would it be agreeable if it be my team against Lord Thorin's? It would be an honor."

She didn't even grace him a look as she addressed them. When no one complained, her smile grew wider if that was even possible. "To determine the grouping, well, we'll just have the usual. Palm fight!"

His face was scrunched in confusion as he turned to Celen to ask. The 'What' written all over his face and in bright red. Well it wouldn't be possible of course, literally. Whoever would have done such thing would more or less, be dead by now. Ah, back to the story. Celen, with a kind smile, pointed at the crowd who now stood in pairs, facing each other. He saw Dis against Dwalin, Frerin against an unnamed lad, and Lor against Lyra. All pairs stood face to face.

"The objective of the game is for one to hit the other's hand. Just that." He gave Lirin a side glance of acknowledgement as she came to his side. "No forms, no time, just do it per turn. Avoid and hit."

Indeed, his eyes were magnetized to Dis and Dwalin who were doing said 'palm fight' quickly. He watched as Dwalin went for the offense while Dis evaded. He also took notice that Dwalin was focused on Dis' right hand that in the long run, Dis used her left hand to slam, yes slam, Dwalin's right hand that he yelped. Then came the teasing, Dwalin just shrugged it off. Having observed such, Thorin turned to Lirin, "I would be in disadvantage in this game of yours."

"Oh, do not worry. It'd be just for the team divisions. You'll have great teammates anyhow." He felt her hand on his arm, gentle and inviting. He met her gaze and felt the beginnings of a smile. "Shall we? We can go slower if you like?"

One thing about Lirin was, she liked instigating challenges and conflicts. All in good reason of course. And Thorin here, never backed down to a challenge, especially presented to him in a silver platter.

"I'm sure I could keep up." His voice, behind all the playfulness, held a dark threat.

"I'm sure you would, m'prince." The prospect of whatever threat he kept made goosebumps rise and her eyes shine in anticipation. Curiosity was he weakness, and it was eating her. "Shall we?"

Thorin did keep up, but it didn't mean he won.

-TBC-

Sorry. I got a graphic tablet and went on a drawing spree. If you would like to see some, mind you I'm just starting up and am not really as good as the others go here: [belleillumina deviantart com] just put dot on the spaces.

And been typing in so slow a pace. It wasn;t until the last reviewer said please. Thank you for still reading this even if it was left out for long.

Palm fight isn't really palm fight. It's Ninja Fight, a game me and my cousins/friends play. The rules are pretty much like what Lirin said. It's fun and easy and a great workout sometimes.

Reviews are more than welcome! Some concrit would be nice. I wish you had fun reading this.

Next chapter would be a short one with a moment between Thorin and Lirin.

^Sorry about my grammar in this.


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